


Bad Apple Prompts

by Multiple_Universes



Series: Bad Boy Yuuri Katsuki AU [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 24/7 Eros Yuuri Katsuki, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Angst, Blood and Violence, Bodyswap, Fluff, Flustered Victor Nikiforov, Humor, M/M, Organized Crime, Sarcasm, Sarcastic Sex, Smut, bad boy Yuuri Katsuki, everyone is still a skater, gangster Mila Babicheva, gangster Phichit Chulanont, gangster Sara Crispino, gangster Yuuri Katsuki, lovestruck Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-02-16 20:43:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 22,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13061793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multiple_Universes/pseuds/Multiple_Universes
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki was no good, a bad influence. What was Victor doing with him?Apart from the obvious.A collection of prompts based on the ficBad Apple. Currently open and accepting more!Note: Chapters 10-16 are prompts forDomestic Victuuri Week





	1. The Noises You Make… Moaning

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are with a fic of prompts for [Bad Apple](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10619574/chapters/23487078), as promised. If you see that the fic is incomplete, then chances are - I'm still accepting prompts for this AU. Feel free to leave a comment with what you'd like to see (a random dialogue, or a specific scenario, or whatever). As always, I reserve the right to creatively interpret (or misinterpret haha) what you asked for. These prompts will be set all over the place in the timeline of Bad Apple, so you can ask for people's pasts or futures (or hypothetical scenarios).

They were in a store full of all kinds of nick-knacks, looking for presents for their friends (or at least Victor was, Yuuri was ignoring most of the merchandise). When they got to the very back of the store Victor turned away from Yuuri and said:

“You make noises when you sleep. I mean, last night you were making noises…”

“Really? You haven’t complained before. Did I say something that upset you?” This was news to him. As far as Yuuri knew he didn’t make a single sound when he slept. And that included snoring. He definitely didn’t snore. He was sure of this.

“I-it was… noises… you… um…” Victor fidgeted. “You weren’t talking, you were…”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

“…moaning.”

Yuuri watched Victor turn redder.

“I… um… you were all um… excited…” Victor walked around one of the stacks of items, as if to hide behind it.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked, following Victor. “We could’ve had some fun.”

“I couldn’t wake you up!” Victor exclaimed. “You were tired and you needed your sleep.”

“Damn right I was,” Yuuri walked up to Victor and embraced him from behind. “Why didn’t you press yourself up against me, then?” he whispered into Victor’s ear.

Victor covered his face. “It felt wrong. I… uh… I felt jealous. I know I’m not supposed to get jealous, but I couldn’t help it.”

Jealous. Right.

Yuuri tried to remember what the hell he’d dreamt about, but his mind was completely blank.

“There’s nothing to be jealous about,” Yuuri said. “And there’s nothing wrong with pressing yourself up against me. I was having a really erotic dream about you.” He shrugged. “It happens. I’m sure you’ve had at least one about me.”

Victor nodded, his hands still on his face. “I have.” His ears were red.

“Well, there you go, then.” He pulled Victor closer and whispered into his ear, “Let’s go home and I’ll show you what I dreamt about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the prompts I got on Tumblr. From what I remember, the prompt was something like:  
> "You made noises last night."  
> "What kind of noises?"  
> "You were moaning."
> 
> I still don't know if I should do a version with the dialogue flipped between the two of them...


	2. You Could’ve Warned Me

Yuuri came home with blood on his hands and his body full of adrenaline, feeling on top of the world and ready to face anything. Ten people with guns? Bring them on! People coming at him with all kinds of sharp objects in their hands? Of course! But, of course, home had to have the one thing he wasn’t ready for: Victor Nikiforov.

Oh, he could handle the five-time world champion out on the ice. He could also handle the living legend in the bedroom. (Most of the time, but that was a secret.)

What he couldn’t handle (especially with blood still on his hands) was the living legend singing something while cooking in the kitchen and…

No, there was no way around it.

…and wearing nothing but a pair of underwear. And not the stupid kind that people wore in the movies, but the kind that left nothing to the imagination (of course, Yuuri didn’t need to use his imagination for this, just his memory).

Victor was so absorbed in what he was doing, that he’d missed Yuuri coming home entirely.

Victor’s clothes lay discarded on one of the chairs. It didn’t take long to add to the pile. After wiping the blood off onto a towel, of course.

“You could’ve warned me,” Yuuri whispered into his ear, running a hand over Victor’s backside and making him jump, “I would’ve rushed home faster.”

“Y-Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed. “When did you get back?”

“Oh, I’ve been at home the whole time and you never noticed,” Yuuri joked.

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

Yuuri chuckled. “Where is that medal for teasing recognition? You’ve really earned it.”

Victor blushed as Yuuri worked his hands over him. “Y-Yuuri, are you… are you naked?”

“Almost,” Yuuri said. “Guess what I’m still wearing.” His hands were on Victor’s chest now.

Victor gasped.

“Why the hell are you naked anyway? …Or almost naked. Whatever.”

“It got too… hot in the kitchen…I had the stove going and…” Victor reclined his head backwards and Yuuri stepped even closer to take advantage of this new opening.

“It still is,” Yuuri muttered before pressing his lips against Victor’s neck. His hands were up at Victor’s shoulders now.

“Y-Yuuri!” Victor was really flustered now. “Y-you’re only wearing gloves!”

Yuuri’s only response was a quiet chuckle and more kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on a Tumblr prompt to use the line "You could have warned me" in any context at all.
> 
> I confess that I spent some time trying to come up with a good one for this. I had several options in mind. Here’s hoping I picked the best of them all.


	3. Kid Fans

“Can I have your autograph?” a voice called out.

Yuuri turned around to make a rude comment and found himself looking at empty space. He lowered his eyes and a big happy grin met his gaze.

A little kid held up a little album in her little hands along with a little pen.

What was he supposed to say to that? Here’s my autograph, kid, now go run to your mommy? That sounded like a good option.

“Sure!” Victor exclaimed. He took the album carefully out of her hands and paused with the pen over the paper. “What’s your name?”

“Alice.”

“To Alice,” Victor said as he wrote and signed his name. “Your turn, Yuuri.”

Yuuri took the album, not sure what to say.

“Don’t forget to address it to Alice,” Victor said and scooped her up into his arms. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really pretty, Alice?”

Yuuri froze with the pen in his hand.

Alice beamed like someone who was on top of the world. _No, just held up by the person who is top in the world,_ his brain supplied.

Victor turned away from her and beamed at Yuuri.

For the first time in his life he knew exactly what they meant when they talked about hearts doing flips. His did a freaking quadruple flip and then did another one to really ram the point home.

 _God damn it, Snowflake_. It took a lot of willpower to not swear aloud.

Victor laughed as Alice reached out and played with his hair.

“It’s so soft!” she exclaimed.

_Hey, kid! Only I get to do that!_

“Yuuri,” Victor said between laughs, his eyes closed, “c-can you imagine if we could have a kid what they would look like?”

 _Really damn good,_ Yuuri thought despite himself.

And then they were attacked.

It came from all sides and in three waves.

First wave: a whole platoon of little kids.

Second wave: another platoon of their parents.

Third wave: an entire army of reporters.

The press loved it. The photo of Victor holding up Alice and beaming at Yuuri made its rounds through all the papers, accompanied by all kinds of jokes about the two skaters starting a family of their own.

Victor bought a newspaper just so he could cut it out, frame it and put it on the wall in the living room.

Yuuri swore to spend the rest of his life ignoring that photo. And especially ignoring the expression on his own face in that photo.

It was, after all, completely unthinkable that even when staring at his boyfriend Yuuri Katsuki (yes, _the_ Yuuri Katsuki) would have the expression of someone hopelessly in love on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was "bad apple boys taking care of a baby/toddler/kid, can you believe Yuuri goes all soft seeing Viktor being super good with kids?"


	4. Getting Sick: Yuuri

He wasn’t a god, so it was bound to happen sooner or later. He’d just hoped that it would be later. Much later. But here it was in all its horror: Yuuri Katsuki was sick.

Waking up was terrible. It started with a headache and just went downhill from there.

He sat at breakfast that morning, hating the whole world.

Victor hummed as he made breakfast, because _of course_ he did. It wasn’t his fault he was so damn cheery all the damn time, but how could he be so damn cheery all the damn time?

And then Yuuri sneezed.

Victor turned and stared at him in surprise, as if he wasn’t allowed to sneeze.

Yuuri opened his mouth to say something and sneezed instead. And again, just to really get the point home. And again. And again.

_Oh great! I’m going to die from sneezing! Just what I’ve always wanted. Great, just great! How the hell do I stop?_

Waiting was his only option at this point.

In the silence that followed ten consecutive sneezes ( _Ten! What the hell!_ ) Victor stared at Yuuri with his mouth slightly open.

“Bless you! Yuuri, um –”

“I’m fine! I –”

And it was back to sneezing again.

_Today’s entertainment, boys and girls, is watching Yuuri Katsuki sneeze. Place your bets on how many it will be this time._

Victor pulled him up to his feet, dragged him to the sofa and lay him down as soon as soon as there was an intermission in all the sneezing. He found a thick red quilt and wrapped it around Yuuri.

“Look, I don’t –” Yuuri began and sneezed.

Just once this time. Amazing.

“Stay here,” Victor said.

“Why?”

But Victor ran off to the kitchen, missing Yuuri’s question entirely.

 _Great! Now what am I supposed to do? Imitate a giant human burrito?_ He sneezed again.

Victor returned not long after with a cup of hot tea. “I mixed in some raspberry jam. Auntie says it’s the best cure for a cold!”

_Yeah, I’m sure that as soon as I drink it, I will magically be better._

Victor crouched down next to Yuuri and put his hands over Yuuri’s left hand while he drank.

Surprisingly, a cup full of tea wasn’t enough to cure Yuuri and he still felt terrible.

“You should sleep,” Victor said, laying Yuuri down.

“Really, I –”

Victor pulled the blanket up to Yuuri’s neck. “Sleep and don’t worry.”

“Worry about what?”

Victor brushed Yuuri’s hair to one side. “I will take care of you,” he whispered and smiled.

And Yuuri didn’t mind. He closed his eyes and drifted off.

Every couple of hours he would wake up to find Victor sitting in a chair by his side. This made Victor jump up to his feet and dash off into the kitchen to make more tea for Yuuri. At least it did until Yuuri figured out the clever trick of not opening his eyes and pretending he was still asleep.

He lay still, breathing slowly. Victor leaned over him and kissed his forehead.

It was so sappy. He was tempted to open his eyes and joke about being Sleeping Beauty, but he kept them closed and waited to see what Victor would do next.

Victor moved his chair closer and held Yuuri’s hand.

“Get better, please,” he whispered and pressed Yuuri’s hand to his lips.

When the evening came he tried to talk Victor into leaving him to go sleep in the bedroom, but Victor refused to move from his spot. He used Yuuri’s chest as his pillow instead.

Yuuri awoke in the middle of the night, raised his hand and put it over Victor’s head.

Morning came and Yuuri woke up to find the spot beside him was empty. The headache was gone. He wasn’t sneezing. The damn cold was gone.

He sat up and was about to get up when Victor returned.

“You’re awake!” Victor exclaimed. “I made you more tea!” There was a big smile on his face. He actually enjoyed taking care of Yuuri!

Yuuri dropped back down and faked a sneeze. And then faked another three just to be more convincing.

“How do you feel, Yuuri?” Victor asked, handing him the tea and saying “bless you”.

“Better than yesterday.” He smiled. “I’m pretty sure I won’t die of sneezing today.”

Victor dropped into the chair with a happy sigh. “Oh good!” His face spread in a big smile. “I promise I’ll cure you.”

 _With the power of love?_ Yuuri added mentally. He opened his mouth to make a joke and thought about how good it was to not have a headache and not sneeze every minute of the day. “Looks like I’m going to spend another day imitating a human burrito. Unless you have other plans?”

Victor took the empty cup out of his hands. “Can we watch a movie?”

Yuuri agreed, knowing Victor was about to pull another cheesy romantic comedy out for them to watch. But that didn’t matter: he didn’t watch a single minute of it, content to watch Victor instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this mostly because I was really sick one week and thought about this while too sick to do anything. The next part has Victor getting sick and Yuuri taking care of him.


	5. Getting Sick: Victor

The first sign that something was wrong was that Victor wasn’t humming or singing.

The second sign was that he wasn’t making breakfast.

The third sign was that after getting up he lay back down again.

The fourth and most telling sign, in Yuuri’s opinion, was that Victor had a fever. Of course the fact that he wasn’t his usual energetic self was a big tip off too.

Yuuri reached out for him after he dropped back down. He took Victor’s face in his hands and opened his mouth to make some kind of joke about being unable to leave when he realized how warm Victor’s face was. And red. He was like a human-shaped furnace.

“I didn’t realize that living legends get sick too,” Yuuri said. “Or angels. Aren’t you too pure of heart for that, or something?”

“I’m not sick,” Victor whispered, “just sleepy…” He closed his eyes.

Yuuri pressed the back of his hand against Victor’s forehead. “Holy crap, Snowflake! You’re burning up!”

“I’ll be fine…” he muttered, drifting off.

There was nothing to do but to get up and make himself breakfast. He got dressed and turned around to look at Victor.

He lay there, naked under only one blanket, so Yuuri left to find a thick one and then another one, because you can’t have enough of a good thing, don’t you know.

He tucked Victor in and went to have breakfast.

That done he sat in the kitchen, wondering what to do next. Practice was out of the question with his coach asleep.

“Yuuri…” Victor stood in the kitchen doorway, wrapped in one of the blankets, “I…”

“Why the hell did you get up?”

“Why did you leave me?” Victor whispered. “I woke up and you weren’t there! I got lonely and… and don’t you know I –”

“Alright, Snowflake, back to bed!” He took Victor back, lay him down and tucked him in. He sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. “I don’t know any bedtime stories, unfortunately.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at this.

“C-can you hold my hand? If you hold it then I’ll get better faster, I’m sure of it!”

Yuuri took it without comment. He reached out with his other hand and touched Victor’s forehead. “You’re really burning up. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“I don’t need a doctor, if my Yuuri is by my side,” Victor whispered and closed his eyes. “I want you to always stay by my side.”

“You bet.” Yuuri debated dragging Victor to a doctor anyway.

Victor slept, clutching Yuuri’s hand tightly to his heart.

_Today’s training: how long can you sit next to your sleeping boyfriend before also falling asleep? Do we have any bets from the audience?_

But he couldn’t sleep. He wondered if he could slip out for a while, but any time he tried to pull his hand away, Victor’s grip only got tighter.

_I’m going to be stuck here until next morning, I just know it. I half-expected you to send me around, demanding hot milk and honey, or something along those lines._

Victor woke up several hours later and Yuuri used it as his chance to leave, promising that he would definitely come back soon and, no, he wasn’t going to leave Victor all alone.

 _God, Snowflake,_ Yuuri thought as he heated up the milk and stirred honey into it, _I didn’t realize you could get this clingy. Maybe I’ll tease you about it when you’re healthy again._

He smiled to himself and took the milk to Victor.

“What is it?” Victor asked, sitting up.

 _I should’ve talked you into putting something on,_ Yuuri thought. _Although something tells me you don’t actually have a pajama._

“It’s warm milk with honey,” Yuuri answered. “My mom made it for me when I was sick.” He considered this. “I was six at the time,” he added, just in case Victor got the wrong idea.

Victor sipped it and smiled. “It’s delicious!” He downed a whole cup and sent Yuuri for another.

 _Really, Snowflake,_ Yuuri thought as he headed back to the kitchen, _you should eat something._

“I’m so lucky,” Victor said twenty minutes later, “to have my Yuuri by my side and he’s giving me breakfast in bed.”

“Lunch,” Yuuri corrected him. “I’m sure that having a fever definitely counts as lucky.”

“I love you, Yuuri,” Victor whispered as he ate the lunch Yuuri had made for him.

Yuuri watched him shiver and left the room. “Here, put this on,” he said as soon as he got back. He handed Victor his leather jacket.

“R-really?”

“Yes, really. Put it on, Snowflake.”

Victor pulled it on and grinned wider. “My Yuuri is the best!”

“Eat it all and then sleep.” _Where is this “my Yuuri” coming from?_

When Victor finished everything Yuuri took the tray away and sat down next to him again. “I’m going –”

Victor snatched his hand. “No! I want you to stay here!”

“Why are you so clingy all of a sudden, Victor?” It was one thing for Victor to ask to stay with Yuuri, but to demand that Yuuri stayed in the same room as him was something new.

“B-because I…” Victor ducked under the blanket with only his eyes peeking out, “I’ve always wanted for someone to take care of me when I got sick. I wanted someone to be there to tuck me in and hold my hand and be there to make sure I won’t get really sick.”

_Because my presence will scare the sickness fairy away? What?_

Victor lowered his eyes. “I usually get sick in the winter and I always lie in my apartment all by myself and it’s cold and, and…” he sighed, “and sometimes when it gets really bad I pretend there is someone beside me, hugging me and saying it will be okay.”

“Can you let me go?” Yuuri interrupted.

“What?” Victor asked.

Yuuri freed his hand. He pulled his shirt and pants off and slipped under the blankets next to Victor. His arms wrapped around Victor. “Maybe you should change into a pajama…” he said.

“Why?” Victor asked. “I have all of these warm blankets and my Yuuri right next to me.”

“Hmm…”

“And there’s all that milk and honey you made me!”

Yuuri put his head on Victor’s chest.

“I love you, Yuuri.”

There was a long silence after that and then, “I love you, too.”


	6. Meeting Their Canon Selves

“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” Yuuri demanded, standing over the young man who looked like, well, like him. Except for the timid expression on his face and the air of a goody-two-shoes about him. Just looking at him he felt all wrong.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” the young man said, looking up at him.

“Victor, can I have my phone back? I need to call my parents and find out why they didn’t tell me I had a good twin.”

“Phone?” two voices echoed.

He turned and… “Okay, this is getting _really_ weird. Why are there two of you?”

The two Victors stared at each other in surprise.

Yuuri, this Yuuri, not the _other_ one (oh god he was getting a headache just thinking about it) smacked his forehead. “Any minute now I’m going to wake up and this will all be a dream, right?”

“A dream with two Yuuris?” one of the Victors said. “Oh my!”

The other Victor - _his_ Victor, damn it! - saw the expression on his counterpart’s face and blushed. He lowered his eyes.

There was a long pause as the other Yuuri lowered his eyes and blushed. Even the other Victor had a blush on his face.

Yuuri, meanwhile, was giving him a death glare. For some reason it wasn’t having much of an effect on this Victor. It also felt wrong glaring at a person with Victor’s face.

He was going to need therapy after all this was over. Whatever all this was.

“So what are you two? A cloning experiment gone wrong? Or is this another attempt by Phichit to find a way to blackmail me?”

They stared at him in shock. “Phichit? Blackmail?”

Yuuri leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Don’t tell me: you know _another_ Phichit who doesn’t blackmail people.”

“Phichit would never blackmail anyone!” the other Yuuri insisted.

“Yeah, okay, sure. You tell that to the presidents of whatever countries he’s currently blackmailing.” He walked over to his Victor who was looking increasingly more uncomfortable and draped an arm over his shoulder. “That’s actually a really funny story, which I’m sure he’d love to tell you.”

Victor raised his eyes and gave him a half-smile.

Yuuri pinched his cheek.

The other Yuuri looked really offended at this. “Let’s go, Victor,” he said, stepping up to his Victor.

Victor studied them curiously. Then he looked at his counter-part. “Are you also a five-time champion?”

There was a big smile on Victor’s face as he nodded. “Yes.” Then he looked at his Yuuri. “And I’m Yuuri’s coach.”

The other Victor put an arm around his Yuuri. “As am I. Right, Yuuri?”

“Yes.” He nodded and then stared at his counterpart. “But I would never wear a leather jacket and act like a delinquent!”

“Hmmm…” the other Victor eyed Yuuri thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I think it sort of suits you. Maybe you can use it as an inspiration for the next season.”

“I would never skate dressed like that!” Yuuri pointed at his counterpart. “What would he skate to, anyway? Heavy metal?”

“Only once, unfortunately.”

“What?”

“Okay, I’m bored.” Yuuri yawned in as exaggerated a way as he could. “Let’s go for a ride, Snowflake.”

“You don’t mean -” the other Victor began with a slight blush on his cheeks. “Wait! Snowflake??”

Victor blushed deeply and watched his Yuuri turn away with a smirk on his face and leave. “O-on his motorcycle.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean the motorcycle, Snowflake, but I suppose we can do that too.”

“Motorcycle?” Yuuri echoed as they left.

There was a long pause after they were gone.

“Why am I not surprised he rides a motorcycle?” Yuuri murmured, blushing and wishing desperately he could raise his eyes and see the expression on Victor’s face.

“Hmm… I don’t think I would mind a ride myself,” Victor murmured.

There was still a blush on his face, but he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I can’t drive motorcycles.”

“That’s fine by me,” Victor said and put an arm around Yuuri.

Yuuri raised his eyes timidly and saw the smile on his coach’s face. “And I’m not a bad boy.”

“You’re not,” Victor agreed.

They’d been through all of this before, accepting each other as they were, not needing anything else, not needing to pretend.

Victor laughed and took Yuuri’s hand. “But I don’t think I’m as innocent as the other Victor, so…”

“Should we also go… _Snowflake_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my cheeky response to "could you compare BadApple!Yuuri and Victor with the canon?" I didn't know how to do an interesting point by point comparison except by writing a fic. And this sort of happened. I'm weird. I know.


	7. Snegurochka

Victor was surprised at how easy it had been to convince Yuuri to do this. He wondered if it meant that Yuuri was about to do something terrible, but they were kids! Would he really do something terrible in front of children?

He went out in front of a group of delighted children, dressed as Ded Moroz, complete with the giant fake white beard, red hat and big red coat lined with white fur. He volunteered to do this almost every year and always showed up on the morning of December 31st with the biggest smile for all the children that came.

“Hello, children!” he exclaimed.

“Hello, Dedushka Moroz!”

“My granddaughter was supposed to come with me,” he went on, trying for a deep voice and failing, “but she got lost on her way here. Maybe if we all call her together she will come!”

The kids already knew the drill. It was the same every New Year’s, after all. They shouted Snegurochka’s name loudly while clapping their hands.

Victor turned to the door and waited. He half-expected Yuuri to barge in, riding a motorcycle as loud rock music played in the background.

But, oddly enough, none of those things happened.

The door opened and Yuuri walked in with a slow and measured walk, which was completely at odds with what he looked like.

He was a thick light blue coat lined with white fur that matched Victor’s, but it only reached his knees, letting everyone see the black leather pants he was wearing and Victor suspected he still had his leather jacket on as well. There was a blue hat on his head and under that was the most important detail of them all.

Yuuri was in a blond wig with one thick braid at the back.

Victor felt his jaw drop.

The other detail he noticed, that would’ve been innocent in any other circumstances, but which jumped out at him this time was just how many silver snowflakes were on Yuuri’s costume.

Now he was blushing too.

“Hello, grandfather,” Yuuri said in Russian, not bothering to change his voice.

Victor turned away, suddenly remembering just how many children were in the room. “W-will you sing a song with me, Snegurochka?” _Oh God! I didn’t realize…! Oh my God! I think I should just go home now!_

The kids watched innocently as Yuuri held a microphone up to his mouth and prepared to sing.

Yuuri was going to sing! Singing while dressed like Snegurochka! And singing in Russian!

He was going to faint. No, no he _wasn’t_ going to faint. Not now. He had to do his best. He raised his own microphone to his mouth, pushed all thoughts of Yuuri ( _singing in Russian, oh my god!_ ) out of his mind and sang.

 _He’s probably upset right now, because my singing is so terrible!_ Victor had sung karaoke with Yuuri enough times by now to know exactly what he thought of Victor’s singing.

But he went on anyway.

“ _Tell me, Snegurochka, we’re you’ve been. Tell me, dear, how are you?_ ” he began.

They never found the time to rehearse this duet and now Victor really regretted it. It would’ve prepared him for the way his heart flipped when Yuuri answered.

“ _I ran after you, Ded Moroz, and wept a lot of tears._ ”

Victor circled Yuuri as he sang his next bit, but instead of looking at him, he turned to the audience. “ _Come now, Snegurochka, and dance!_ ”

But Yuuri seemed to take it as his cue to circle Victor as he sang his response. “ _No, Ded Moroz, no, Ded Moroz, no, Ded Moroz, hold on_!”

There was the glint in his eyes again and Victor felt his knees shake.

Why had they ever agreed to do this? How did he walk into this without realizing exactly how the lyrics would sound? They’d been innocent before, referencing a kid’s show and making everyone laugh. Usually when he did this there was a young woman in a costume by his side and they played a loving grandfather and granddaughter who were glad to see the children.

“ _Forgive me, my dearest, and keep on loving me_ ,” Victor went on, his voice trembling.

“ _How can I stop loving you, dear grandfather, after so many winters and so many years?_ ” Yuuri responded and caught Victor by the hand.

Victor blushed. “ _The kids are all waiting for my presents,_ ” he went on. The song was reminding him about the kids he was starting to forget about himself. “ _And I have one just for you._ ”

“ _Ah! Finally all my wishes will come true. The best present I could get is you_ ,” Yuuri replied, his hand squeezing Victor’s.

The song ended there. At least it did, as far as Victor was concerned.

When he opened his eyes Yuuri and at least a dozen kids were all leaning over him.

“Ded Moroz fainted!” someone exclaimed. “He actually fainted!”

“He did! He did!”

“He went _oomph_ and fainted!”

Yuuri helped him stand and only then did Victor realize that Yuuri had caught him when he fainted. “How are you feeling, Snowflake?” Yuuri asked in English.

“I-I’m alright,” Victor said and smiled. “Sorry for that, everyone! Let’s all dance!”

They played some music and the children laughed and hopped around them to the music.

Yuuri pulled Victor close to him by the waist. “Are you really sure you’re alright?”

“Y-yes…” Victor stammered.

“Excuse me,” a child called out and Victor turned to see a little boy, “will you dance with me, Ded Moroz? Please?”

Victor looked at Yuuri, wondering what he would say to that.

Yuuri crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Well? Will you make him wait all day, _Ded Moroz_?”

He let the boy pull him away and danced, throwing looks at Yuuri over his shoulder.

Before long almost all the kids surrounded Victor, demanding he dance with them next.

 

Yuuri watched Victor try to dance with a dozen kids at the same time with a smirk on his face. The image was just too funny for words to do it justice.

“Snegurochka,” a voice that could only belong to a little girl called out.

He looked down at her. _Might as well play along. What can possibly go wrong?_ “Yes?”

“You look lonely standing all by yourself,” she said.

 _Really? Let me guess, you’re going to drag me over there and demand I join in with everyone. I’d really rather not._ “I’m not lonely.”

“You are!” she insisted. “You have a sad look on your face!”

 _I’m pretty sure that amused is a better word for it._ “Do I?”

“It’s okay. I will dance with you,” she said.

 _Really? You will dance with me? The top figure skater in the world is perfectly capable of finding someone to dance with, thank you very much!_ He looked at her. She was barely taller than his knee. Her parents had tied her hair into two short braids. She was in a white dress and a pair of wings, looking like someone’s idea of an angel. And _she_ wanted to dance with stone cold killer Yuuri?

“Come on! Are you scared?” She grabbed his hands and pulled him after her.

“I’m not scared. Why would I be scared?” He couldn’t help thinking of Victor as she pulled him onwards. “You’re holding my hands, so of course I’m not scared,” he said as sarcastically as he could.

She beamed. “I can fight off any scary monsters!”

_Yeah, I’m sure they’ll take one look at you and run for cover._

“Look what I can do!” She twirled on the spot. “Isn’t it great?” She beamed up at him.

 _God, Snowflake, she’s just like you. She could almost be your daughter._ He couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. “Oh yes, it’s wonderful.” It was one of those rare times when there was no sarcasm in his voice at all.

“You do it too!” she insisted.

He jumped up and spun around.

“Wow!” she clapped. “Can you teach me how to do it?”

He picked her up. “I can do better than that.” He jumped up and spun around with her in his arms.

She squealed with delight. “Aah! I can spin around now too!”

 

Victor turned at the sound of a loud squeal and stared in surprise. All of the kids around him stopped screaming and dancing to look as well.

Yuuri was dancing with a little girl. She held on to both of his hands, squealing as he raised her up and spun her around, her legs kicking in the air. He lowered her and they danced on. He had to bend down so they could do this, but he went on regardless.

“I want to dance like that too!” someone exclaimed.

“Spin me around, Ded Moroz!” someone else demanded.

Victor watched the smile on Yuuri’s face and blushed.

Yuuri turned and smirked at Victor. “Forget reciting poems. Let’s have a competition instead.”

“C-competition?” Victor echoed.

“Yes. Pick a partner and we’ll see which pair is better.”

As the kids all jumped up and down demanding he pick them Victor found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Yuuri. _But I already picked a partner…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So while everyone was posting cute fanart of that Christmasy official art, I arrive with a very odd Bad Apple ficlet. A quick note to help anyone who is confused: Ded Moroz is basically Santa Claus (I’m not going to talk about differences here), Snegurochka is his granddaughter and they’re both connected to celebrating New Year’s instead of Christmas.
> 
> And the song they sing is from [this cartoon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EsKY_l1xB-c)


	8. Bad Apple Boys at the Big Apple

Yuuri parked the bike and pulled his helmet off. Victor climbed off and turned around in time to catch Yuuri flattening down his hair with a smirk. The ring on his hand flashed briefly in the sunlight.

“Well?” Yuuri leaned against the handles. “You wanna explain to me why we’re here?”

“Here” was at a place called The Big Apple with a big – you guessed it – apple marking the spot (as well as a few buildings and a parking lot).

“It’s a pie factory,” Victor explained.

“And?” Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

“I thought it would be a good place for a picnic.”

Yuuri climbed off the bike. “I didn’t realize I just drove 150 km for the sake of a picnic. Couldn’t we have gone somewhere closer for the same thing?” He knew why he’d come, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity for a little teasing, even if it was only to work his way to his favourite joke.

“But –”

“That’s our Yuuri!” Phichit cut in, getting out of a car that just drove up to the parking spot next to them. “Never knows how to relax.”

“Oh, I _can_ relax. I just don’t need to drive for 2 hours to do it. Well,” he pretended to consider this, “I think a 30 minute ride will be enough for me. What about you, Snowflake?”

Victor lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry, Yuuri. I didn’t realize… I forgot how tiring it is to drive for so long and –”

Yuuri wrapped an arm around Victor’s waist and pulled him close. “I’m not tired.”

“Will you get the pies, then, while we set everything up?” Phichit asked, ignoring the way they were looking at each other.

Guang Hong and Leo went out to one of the fields to pick the ideal spot on the grass for the blanket.

“Fine.” Yuuri walked off, taking Victor with him.

 

When they returned with two pies in their hands the blanket was already laid out and the others were sitting all around it. There were plastic plates a-plenty as well as plastic cups and cutlery.

The other skaters had all prepared food for this momentous occasion. Even Victor had packed something for them to eat. Yuuri hadn’t bothered with anything.

Lunch passed in small talk about this and that, the colour of the flowers and the blueness of the sky. Yuuri tuned it out, focusing entirely on radio Victor.

Victor ate with a carefree smile on his face, getting food crumbs all around his mouth, as if daring Yuuri to come close for a taste. He raised his hand and flicked them off with his finger.

Yuuri forced himself to look away.

“Why are you so upset, Yuuri?” Phichit asked.

“I’m not upset.”

“Oh no, did something happen?” Victor asked, taking Yuuri’s hand.

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He lay down in the grass, his arms folded under his head and closed his eyes, pretending he’d fallen asleep.

They chatted on without him.

After a while it got quiet and he opened his eyes to see that Victor had gone. He sat up and looked around.

“He’s over there,” Phichit said with a nod.

The living legend of figure skating, the national hero of Russia, the great Victor Nikiforov was out in the field, picking dandelions. Like a ten year old.

Yuuri watched him with his eyebrows raised.

“You’re the one who proposed to him,” Phichit reminded him helpfully.

 _I know. And I don’t regret it for a minute._ Yuuri remained silent.

Victor returned with an armful of flowers, sat down on the blanket and set off braiding them into a flower frown.

Yuuri moved over to him and then, without a word of warning, dropped his head onto Victor’s lap and closed his eyes.

“Y-Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed.

“Wake me up when you want to go back,” Yuuri muttered and pretended he’d fallen asleep.

Victor worked away on his crown, his hands dropping from time to time to brush against Yuuri’s face.

“I’m finished,” he whispered after a while.

Yuuri opened his eyes and sat up. “Let’s see it, then.”

He waited for Victor to put the crown on and show it off, but Victor leaned forward and placed it over Yuuri’s head instead.

Phichit snorted. Even Guang Hong and Leo risked a laugh. Victor blushed and fidgeted and looked ready to break out into tears and apologies.

Yuuri took out his phone and tossed it to Phichit. “Take a picture of us,” he ordered, putting one arm around Victor and pulling him close.

Afterwards they gathered around the phone to admire the result.

“I like it,” Yuuri said.

“It suits you,” Phichit added with a laugh.

Yuuri rose to his feet and pulled Victor up with him. “Let’s go for a walk, Snowflake.”

They walked past the miniature golf and kid-sized zoo only to stop in front of a llama. Victor stared at it in fascination. Yuuri pretended he was also interested.

“I’m sorry,” Victor said, lowering his eyes. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your friends.”

“And how exactly did you think you embarrassed me?” Yuuri asked, pretending he had no idea what Victor was talking about.

“The flower crown!” Victor exclaimed, turning around to look Yuuri in the face. “You don’t have to wear it. I can take it off.” He reached out for it, but Yuuri caught his hands.

“Leave it,” he said. “I said I liked it, didn’t I?”

“You don’t have to spare my feelings,” Victor insisted, moving closer.

Yuuri leaned forward and caught his mouth in a kiss. He’d spent too long fighting back the urge to stop now. Victor responded. Yuuri clutched Victor’s hands in both of his own as he let himself get carried away.

When they returned to the others the food and blanket were already packed away.

Yuuri removed the dandelion crown from his head carefully and handed it to Phichit. “You’ve got the car, you take it back.” His eyes flashed dangerously. “It better get back in one piece, got it? Snowflake made this for me with his own hands.” He looked at Guang Hong and Leo to make sure his threat got across to them and then turned around and headed for his bike.

 _I can’t believe I just threatened two of the best gunmen and the most dangerous blackmailer in the world over a flower crown!_ His hand squeezed around Victor’s as they reached his bike and Victor squeezed it in return.

“If I could wear it under my helmet, I would,” he told Victor, “but I doubt it would survive the drive back to Toronto.”

Victor smiled. “Thank you.”

Yuuri shrugged, strapped his helmet on and climbed on the bike. “Let’s go back.”

Victor climbed on behind him and wrapped him in an embrace. “I love you, Yuuri,” he said before pulling his helmet on.

“Right back at you, Snowflake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was "Bad apple boys visit the big apple for some reason". 
> 
> I see your bad pun and I raise you the Big Apple: an actual place with a giant apple sculpture (can I call it a sculpture?), some shops and a pie factory. This is set during the week before the free skate at the World’s.


	9. A Very Bad (Apple) Christmas

Yuuri watched Victor go through all of the Christmas trees on display (or, as they called them in Russia: New Year’s Trees), giving each one a critical look. It was almost Christmas Eve and only _now_ did Victor insist they buy a tree. Yuuri leaned against a wall with his arms crossed, content to wait as long as it took. Maybe he could get a nap.

He didn’t care which tree Victor picked, he didn’t care for Christmas, but there was Victor’s birthday to think about, which was infinitely more important.

Finally Victor seemed to find a tree that satisfied his super strict criteria and he turned to Yuuri to tell him as much. “This one!”

Yuuri detached himself from the wall with a smirk. “I’ll get the vendor to wrap it up and tie it in ribbons, shall I?”

Victor gave him a big happy smile. “Sure!” And then he frowned. “But how will we take it home on the motorbike?”

“Easy,” Yuuri said, tossing the keys in one hand, his other one in his pocket as he went to talk to the woman selling the trees.

 

Five minutes later they were speeding down the streets of St. Petersburg with a tree strapped to the bike behind Victor. The streets were full of cars, struggling through the snow, but the bike flew past them as if nothing could stop it, not bad weather or bad traffic. Victor clung on tightly.

When they arrived Yuuri climbed off first while Victor sat, smiling down at the tree. With a laugh, Yuuri untied the tree, picked it up and did his best to carry it with one arm, which was really not as easy as it looked with all of the branches sticking out in every direction, but Yuuri had seen the impressed look on Victor’s face as he raised the tree and was determined to keep going.

But his duties with the tree ended when he set it up. As far as Yuuri was concerned, decorating wasn’t his job.

There was a lot of rushing about and then Victor brought out boxes of old ornaments for the tree. Yuuri contented himself with finding the perfect spot on the couch where he could sit and watch Victor from.

Victor was humming something under his breath as he decorated the tree. The tree was taller than him, but he could stand up on his tiptoes and reach out far enough to stick the top on the tree.

Yuuri muttered a curse.

Victor turned around. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just cursing how long your sweater is, Snowflake,” Yuuri explained and waited to see if Victor would understand what he’d meant.

Victor lowered his eyes to the bottom of his sweater and then raised them again. A blush worked its way to his face.

_Well done!_

Yuuri slipped off the couch and caught Victor around the waist. “Are you done with the tree, yet? I’m hungry.”

Victor gave him a big grin. “I am.” He leaned in and pecked Yuuri on the cheek. “Sorry for making you wait.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw something slip out of the box Victor had been holding. Yuuri pulled away and leaned down to pick it up.

It was a photo of someone who could only have been Victor when younger. For some reason he was in a white dress that was cut out like a snowflake. He even had a snow-flake shaped headpiece on his head. His long blond hair fell loosely just past his shoulders.

“Snowflake…” Yuuri whispered and raised his eyes. “You know,” he added, seeing the blush on Victor’s face, “it’s a good thing you and I didn’t go to the same school when we were kids, or I would’ve bullied you.” He looked down at the photo again. “No,” he said after a while. “On second thought, maybe not.”

He had an odd image then of Victor picked on by other people in the class, simply because he presented such an easy target.

 

_“You so much as look at Victor again, I will break your arm,” Yuuri hissed to one of the kids in the class._

_“In love with him, are you?” the bully teased._

_Yuuri scoffed. “Why would I be in love with_ him _? I just can’t stand unfair fights. You want to fight someone, take me on.”_

_Yuuri came home covered in bruises, frightening his parents. The teachers called his house all the time to complain about him beating up half the school, even taking on kids that were four years older than he was. His parents tried to lecture him, even ground him. But all of that didn’t matter._

_Yuuri would slip out late at night to throw stones at Victor’s window and then hide when Victor peered out of the window._

_And, pretty soon, the class would learn no to look at Victor if they didn’t want to come home with bruises._

_Assuming he didn’t get suspended after a week…_

Yuuri looked at Victor again. “I think I’ll keep this,” he said about the photo, slipping it into the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

“I’ll make dinner,” Victor said, leaving for the kitchen.

Afterwards they had a dinner together. Just the two of them, as if it was another evening. This suited Yuuri just fine: he didn’t want to see anyone else anyway.

He shifted closer until his knee touched Victor’s and watched him blush.

“I know you like to celebrate Christmas,” Victor said, “so I got you a present.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “Really? And what is it?”

“It’s a secret!” Victor laughed.

“You saw straight through my plan to get you to admit what it was,” Yuuri said, reclining in his seat. “Is it something dirty, at least?”

Victor turned bright red. Even his ears were red. “Yuuri!”

He moved fast, leaning forward and catching Victor’s head with his hand. “I have a present for you too,” he whispered before catching Victor’s mouth in a kiss.

There was probably supposed to be dessert, but Yuuri was in no mood for it now.

He slipped off his chair and took Victor with him to the bedroom.

 

“Yuuri!”

He turned over and opened his eyes to see Victor sitting on the bed next to him. “Yuuri! Thank you!”

It took several seconds to realize what Victor was thanking him for and then his face spread in a mischievous grin. “I see you couldn’t wait for me to wake up and had to go and open your present already.”

“You’re not mad, are you?” Victor whispered and then he got up and turned around. “I love it! What do you think?” he looked at Yuuri over his shoulder. “Do you think it suits me?”

Yuuri sat up with a smirk. “You do realize that all I can see right now is the living legend’s ass, right?”

Victor turned bright red and tried to cover himself with his hands. “W-what do you think, though?”

He shifted a little so he could still get a nice view and leaned on one arm. “Very nice.”

The living legend went on excitedly about wearing it for the rest of the day and Yuuri merely nodded.

He knew it would suit Victor when he spotted it in a store. To be fair, a lot of things suited Victor, but this worked in more ways than one.

“Come here,” he beckoned with his finger and Victor sat down next to him.

Yuuri ran his fingers over his present. “I hope you realize that no one will take you seriously when you wear this.”

“I’ll shoot their heads off!” Victor said, trying and failing to imitate Yuuri’s voice.

Yuuri chuckled softly and reached for his phone. He needed a photo of Victor as he was then: dressed in nothing but a pink leather jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet was inspired by the fact that I saw a guy on a motorcycle with a Christmas Tree strapped in the back.
> 
> I actually recorded myself reading the [first scene in chapter one of Bad Apple](http://witharthurkirkland.tumblr.com/post/168837212228/after-a-conversation-about-audiobooks-i-ended-up) and the [infamous scene with "You going my way, pretty boy?"](http://witharthurkirkland.tumblr.com/post/168881445493/witharthurkirkland-another-snippet-of-bad). I don't know if anyone wants an audio of the whole fic, but if I ever find the time I would love to record the whole thing....


	10. Makkachin the Conqueror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I signed up for Domestic Victuuri Week for Jan 8-14 and decided that I will write as many of these prompts as I can in the Bad Apple universe.
> 
> The first prompt is: Makkachin/Dog Dads or Mischief

Yuuri woke up because something quite big and somewhat heavy dropped down on top of him. He tried to turn over and make a joke about it and realized that he couldn’t. More than that: he couldn’t move at all.

“What the –”

A low growling sounded in his ear.

It wasn’t hard to guess the culprit. “Makkachin?”

Another low growl.

“What do you want?”

He felt, because seeing in the absolute dark was – you guessed it – impossible, Victor turn over and then shift away, probably to sit up.

“Makkachin seems to think that it’s comfortable to lie on top of you!” Victor declared.

“For him, maybe,” Yuuri responded.

Victor slipped under the blankets, right up to Yuuri and pressed his face against Yuuri’s chest. “I think it’s very comfortable to sleep here too.”

Yuuri chuckled and pulled his fingers through Victor’s hair.

 

The next night they heard Makkachin’s paws tapping away against the floor and braced themselves for the dog to join them.

Victor slid away from Yuuri and sat up. “Come here, Makkachin!”

But the dog went around the bed and climbed onto Yuuri’s side again.

He tried to move away this time, but Makkachin put his head down on Yuuri’s shoulder and slept.

Victor sighed and Yuuri grinned in the dark. “I didn’t realize I was his favourite. What about you, Snowflake? Am I _your_ favourite?”

Victor joined him. “Yes,” he whispered, bringing his body close to Yuuri’s.

There was a short silence and then Victor whispered. “You know, I think there’s something we should do.”

Yuuri chuckled. “Might be difficult with Makkachin on top of me.”

For some reason the words meant nothing to Victor and he went on with, “Not right now, of course. I mean later.” He waited for several seconds, just enough for a dramatic pause, before continuing. “We should buy him a leather jacket!”

A silence followed those words, broken only by the sounds coming from the street:

“A _what_?” Yuuri asked, hoping he’d somehow heard wrong or that Victor would take the hint and change his mind.

“A leather jacket!” Victor repeated in that oblivious way of his.

“That’s exactly what he needs,” Yuuri muttered. “Don’t forget to get him a bike too.” He had a mental image of Makkachin in a leather jacket with a black studded collar and then he thought of Vicchan.

“I used to have a dog myself, you know,” he admitted, suddenly realizing that this was something he’d never told Victor.

“I know,” Victor whispered back. “Your mother told me.”

“Oh. Well he died in a fight with other dogs.”

“That’s so sad!” He could hear the tears in Victor’s voice.

“That’s life.”

“What was his name?”

There was no getting out of this one. Even if he lied about it, it was bound to come up in a conversation during one of their visits to Hasetsu and then Victor would find out the truth.

“Vicchan,” Yuuri said and that was when he really felt how much his death had upset him. It was stupid that his name was what brought it on, but there it was.

“That’s a cute name!”

Yuuri sighed. “It’s short for Victor.”

There was a pause as Victor digested this grand revelation. “You named your dog after me?”

“I thought it was funny. God knows why.” It certainly wasn’t funny _now_. Not at all. Not even one little tiny bit.

“Yuuri,” Victor whispered, sliding his hands over Yuuri’s chest, “you know I’ve been in love with you for several years–”

“It was more of a crush,” Yuuri corrected him.

“It was love! _Is_ love!” Victor insisted. “Anyway, I wanted to ask: how long have you been in love with me for?”

Yuuri smirked, put a hand around Victor’s waist and pulled him close. “That’s a secret.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, there is a very important thing [here](http://witharthurkirkland.tumblr.com/post/169443724888/dear-fic-or-original-story-readers-and-art), that you should all read.


	11. Victor’s Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day 2 of Domestic Victuuri Week. The prompt was Cooking or Care/Taking Care of Each Other. I sort of ended up with a mix of them?

It was warm in the kitchen. Victor was baking something in the oven and cooking several things on the stove, not to mention the two or three salads he was cutting up on the side. Attracted by the delicious smells, Yuuri stood in the kitchen doorway, leaning against it with his arms folded over his chest. The smells drew in another person and Yuuri watched Makkachin walk in to take his usual spot under the table before lying down for a nap.

It was the image of peace and tranquility.

Victor was humming something as he tasted one of the dozen or so things he was making.

He turned and gave Yuuri a big smile over his shoulder.

Yuuri detached himself from the wall and joined Victor, putting one arm around his waist and resting his head on Victor’s shoulder. “Working on a new type of torture?” he asked softly. “Fill the house with delicious smells and wait for everyone to beg for a taste?” he explained, seeing the confusion on Victor’s face.

“Do you want to try some?” Victor asked.

There was still a trace of it on Victor’s lips. Yuuri eyes flickered to it before he leaned in to lick it off. “That will do,” he said, pulling away and watching Victor blush.

“So what’s all this, then?” Yuuri asked and nodded at all the food. “You don’t usually make so much. Are we about to get guests I don’t know about, or am I expected to eat all of it?”

Victor gave him a fond smile, the blush still on his cheeks, and explained about an old family tradition of making a lot of food over the holidays. For his family, “holidays” meant December 31st all the way to January 14th.

“Are we going to visit your aunt, then?” Yuuri asked.

“She’s coming here,” Victor told him.

“Oh good,” Yuuri said. “Is she going to turn the apartment inside out again to make sure that you’re living your life properly, or whatever?”

The only time Victor’s aunt had visited them was to – as Yuuri had called it – conduct a thorough inspection. Victor had spent a week tidying the apartment up to get it just right. And still the aunt had found something to grumble about.

“We used to all visit each other during this time of the year,” Victor said, suddenly off for a walk down Memory Lane Yuuri hadn’t been prepared for. “My parents would cook enough for fifty people and have the whole family over.”

Yuuri watched Victor’s face carefully. Several times he’d start from an innocent memory of his family and, next thing Yuuri knew, there were tears everywhere. Yuuri had to be ready with the right words (although he was pretty sure he still hadn’t worked out what they were).

“There were so many of us!” Victor exclaimed. “All my cousins would come visit!” He sighed. “Of course, they’re all gone now… They all moved away, after… After…”

Here were the tears now. Yuuri raised a hand to cup Victor’s face and make him look up. “I’m right here,” he said. “ _I’m_ your family now.” There was just a hint of possessiveness in his voice.

Victor rested his forehead against Yuuri’s. “Say that again,” he whispered.

And Yuuri did.

He let Victor cling on for as long as he needed after that. And just as he felt Victor pull away he found a spot in Victor’s hair to bury his nose. “You have plans to cook all day?” he murmured against the back of Victor’s head. “Or do you have some free time in your busy schedule for a ride?”

“I’m almost done,” Victor promised.

Yuuri released him and sat down at the kitchen table next to Makkachin, content to wait.

The dog opened his eyes and got up to put his head on Yuuri’s knee. Yuuri petted him absent-mindedly. _Don’t tell me you’re going to cry too._

He could imagine them all: a big rowdy bunch – the kids all loud and bouncing off the walls in their mad attempts to get all the attention for themselves; the adults split into two groups: those chasing the kids and those who are helping set up the table.

“Victor, look how you’ve grown!” one of them would undoubtedly say and then go on to admit that they hadn’t seen Victor for ten, or fifteen, or twenty years.

 

_“I haven’t seen you since you were short enough to walk under the table!” uncle number one said._

_Victor threw his arms around him, exclaiming happily. He pulled away and beamed at Yuuri, trying to summarize his uncle in two sentences._

_The uncle shook Yuuri’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Yuuri! I hear you’re the top figure skater in Japan. My nephew is, I dare say, a bit of a legend himself. I hope you’ve been doing a good job looking after him.”_

_“I have my hands full day and night,” Yuuri responded, watching Victor’s ears turn red as he turned away to help another aunt or uncle with the big bowl of whatever food they brought._

_Another uncle walked into the kitchen, holding up a bottle of alcohol in each hand. “How’s your liver, Yuuri?”_

_“Not amused,” Yuuri replied and watched the man laugh._

_There were hugs and kisses happening on one side of him while he seemed to be stuck in handshake land._

_The children were all screaming and chasing each other through the room, jumping onto the sofa, climbing onto the table, breaking all of the dishes and doing all of those other things that children did._

_Yuuri scooped up a random little cousin as he ran by and held him up in his arms. “Normally, I’m all for chaos, but if you turn the place inside out Victor will cry and you don’t want to make Victor cry, because then I will get mad. And you don’t want to make me mad, got that?”_

_The little cousin nodded in the least convincing way imaginable and Yuuri put him down._

_“Do they have an off switch by any chance?”_

_One of the cousins let out a high-pitched scream._

_“Or a mute button?”_

_The uncle gave Yuuri a helpless grin. “Depends: do you have a game they can play?”_

_“How good are they at playing dead?” He paused for effect. “Just kidding!”_

_He let the other adults sort the children out and rejoined Victor in greeting newcomers._

_The doors opened and Auntie came in. She trapped Victor in a long bone-crushing embrace and then kissed both of his cheeks._

_“Still making your Auntie proud, Victor. Good!” she exclaimed like a teacher returning a test to the top student in the class._

_Then she turned to face Yuuri. “And you!  You better not be disgracing the Nikiforov name!”_

_“Not the Nikiforov one, no,” Yuuri replied with a smirk._

_She elbowed him and then granted him permission to kiss her on the cheek._

_And then the last guests arrived, following every story convention ever by turning out to be Victor’s parents…_

Yuuri’s imagination ran out at that point. After all this time, he still had no idea what Victor’s parents were like. Would they have approved of him or kept Victor away?

At the stove Victor was humming another song, swaying slightly to the beat. Yuuri forgot all about the hypothetical meeting with Victor’s family and focused on Victor instead.

One day he would have to tell Victor just how distracting he could be.


	12. Where Yuuri Katsuki Gets it From

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day 3 of Domestic Victuuri Week. The prompt was Friends, Family, or Alone Time.

That year the Grand Prix final was in Japan, which meant that for the first time in his life Yuuri would be competing in his own country while representing another one. With a Russian coach and a Russian skating partner what other country could Yuuri compete for?

Victor had brought it up once, but Yuuri merely shrugged.

 

_“I’ve never been patriotic,” he said. “So I really couldn’t care less which country were representing. We can be the pair representing Antarctica for all I care.”_

_Victor frowned. “Antarctica doesn’t have any athletes.”_

_“Then we can be the first,” Yuuri replied. He wasn’t serious, of course. He wasn’t even sure if Antarctica counted as a country._

_He saw that Victor wasn’t going to let the matter drop and sighed._

_“Look, if it makes you feel any better, we can represent Japan next season.”_

_Victor threw his arms around Yuuri, promising to do just that._

The return to Japan meant a return to Hasetsu and so one sunny afternoon saw them both driving up to the Onsen on Yuuri’s bike.

Yuuri parked, pulled his helmet off and grinned. He was about to be stuck in a family reunion, but it didn’t trouble him this time.

Victor was still clinging on to him, the both of them still on the bike.

“You’ll have to wait, Snowflake,” Yuuri told him and climbed off.

He was in a good mood that day and when Victor got off the bike Yuuri caught him around the waist and pulled him close.

But the clever words he was about to say were cut off by the crackling of gunfire.

Without wasting time on thinking, Yuuri and Victor both dropped to the ground.

Yuuri reached for the gun in his inside pocket muttering, “Ah! A true Hasetsu welcome! Reminds me of the day you offered to be my coach.”

He felt Victor put a hand on his shoulder as he raised his gun and fired.

There was no way Yuuri could hit his attackers like this, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to try.

Victor inched closer. Every little detail of that moment was suddenly very prominent and very important. The way the ring on his finger caught the sunlight. The smell of the wet ground not far from his face. The chill that was seeping in through his leather jacket. A quick glance in Victor’s direction gave him a few more details to file away for later: his long eyelashes, the way his hair glinted in the sunlight, his slightly parted lips and the adoration in his eyes.

_After all this time you still can’t help but think of me as a sort of god, hmm?_

All he needed now was a lucky shot and…

There was one shot louder than the rest and then everything went quiet.

“What’s that racket?”

Yuuri swore under his breath.

His mother, no doubt, hearing the sounds that everyone else knew meant death was approaching, stepped outside to see what all that racket was about and maybe try to ask someone nicely to stop it, because it was upsetting the customers.

Both he and Victor moved at the same time, catching the woman and taking her down to the ground with them.

“My goodness!” she exclaimed.

_You can swear at a time like this, you know. This is exactly what swearing was invented for!_

There was more gunfire and then silence again.

“Yuuri, what’s going on?” she asked, turning to him for an explanation just as he was wondering if he could leave them to try to sneak up on their attackers.

And then – _oh damn it all to hell!_ – the sound of his father asking the same question reached his ears. Because why have one extra victim when you can have two?

_I didn’t know my whole family was suicidal! How did they survive this long?_

Victor and he exchanged a look over his mother’s head and Yuuri added his father to the society of people crouching down on the ground and hoping not to die that day.

“What -?” his father repeated the age-old question.

Gunfire gave him the most succinct answer possible.

Both parents turned to look at Yuuri and both saw the gun in his hand.

_Damn!_

“Yuuri!” his mother exclaimed. “What’s the meaning of this?”

 _Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn it all to hell and back again!_ If it was this or death, he was prepared to gamble his life.

The shooting was getting more frequent now, as if they’d finally gotten the hang of using their weapons. It was also really getting on his nerves.

He jumped up and fired as quickly as he could, not bothering with any dramatic gestures. He was all too aware of how he must’ve have looked in the eyes of his parents: Hiroko and Toshiya’s sweet and innocent son Yuuri shooting to kill someone who was shooting to kill him. With a gun. And a determined look on his face. And even they would be able to join the dots to get the full picture: this wasn’t the first time he was doing this. Sweet and innocent Yuuri Katsuki wasn’t as sweet and innocent as they thought.

He pushed all of these thoughts to the back of his mind and tried to concentrate on his targets. If this was the way he was going to go, the least he could do was make sure his family wouldn’t have to go the same way.

The firing stopped and he realized that, by some miracle, he’d killed all of them. Or shot them somewhere that made further shooting difficult.

“Let’s go inside and then ask all the questions,” he said and watched, with just a hint of pride, as Victor rose to his feet first.

They helped his parents up and took them indoors. They made for the first empty room to talk, closing the door behind them.

“Yuuri!” his mother exclaimed over and over again, alternating between his name and “Oh my!”

His father shook his head.

This was it. This was when they disowned him. He wondered how that would go. Was there going to be paperwork or would it all be done verbally?

_Well, at least I didn’t have time to unpack my things. We can just go back to Tokyo, Victor and I, and pretend it never happened._

“Yuuri! That was so dangerous!” his mother exclaimed.

“Where did you get the gun from?” his father asked.

 _Really? Where did I get the gun from?_ “I got it from an illegal arms smuggler,” he replied, giving them the truth, for once.

“Oh.” His parents exchanged a look.

He sighed. “Listen, this is who I really am, alright?” He put the gun away and folded his arms over his chest. “I’m not an innocent little boy and –”

“Well, I suppose it does explain a few things…” his father muttered.

His mother sighed. “It was bound to happen to someone in our family…” She sounded resigned. His mother, upon finding out that her son was secretly a cold-blooded killer, talked about it as if he’d caught the flu!

“I don’t think you understand,” Yuuri said. “I go out there in public and skate, but when I’m not there, when I’m not practicing, I go off and kill people, among other things. Skater by day and killer by night, I guess you could say…” He wondered if it was a good time to bring up all the illegal things he’d done, or if he could leave that for a later time.

Hiroko sighed. Toshiya gave a little shake of his head.

 _Ok. I don’t know what to do now. I actually have no idea what to say!_ He gave Victor a look, wondering if he had any bright ideas.

Victor beamed.

_Is he… gloating?_

He thought back to their many arguments on the subject, and how Victor kept insisting that his parents would love him no matter what he did.

And then the silence was broken by the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle.

Yuuri drew his gun and ran for the door, followed closely by everyone else. He stepped outside first and closed the door behind him, determined to not let anyone else out.

There was a cyclist coming down the road, a cloud of dust in his wake. He was heading straight for Yuuri with the look of someone determined to go through Yuuri, because turning was beneath him, apparently.

Yuuri stood his ground, his legs slightly apart, and his arms raised, aiming at the rider and daring him to keep going.

Still the bike drew closer.

Yuuri was calm. He’d played chicken before. Once, he’d jumped over a cyclist going straight for him.

What would he do now?

Ten meters.

Five.

Two.

The rider stopped and pulled his helmet off. _Her_ helmet.

Yuuri stared at an old lady sitting on a motorbike with a smirk on her face. She was dressed in black leather from head to toe. Yuuri took in the studs, the high heels and the old wrinkled face in shock.

“Are you going to spend the whole day catching flies with your mouth, or can you spare some time for me?” she asked.

Before Yuuri could think of a suitable answer (or possibly a question), his parents ran out, followed closely by Victor.

“Mother!” Toshiya exclaimed. “I didn’t realize you’d be back today!”

“ _Mother_?” Yuuri repeated in disbelief. “As in _grandmother_? _You’re_ my grandmother?” And then he laughed. “Well, of course! Who else would I get it from?”

She laughed as she got off the bike, tossed her helmet to Victor who had been reaching out to take it from her hand and ended up flailing around, struggling to catch it before it hit the ground.

She held her arm out to Yuuri and he took it, but she snatched it away before he could give it a shake.

“What are you doing?” she asked. “I don’t want to hold hands! Give them to me!”

“What?”

“The cigarettes, damn it!” his grandma answered impatiently.

“I don’t smoke, grandma. I’m an athlete. Besides, those things kill you.”

She laughed. “So do guns.”

“Touché.”

She grabbed him and gave him a bone-crushing hug. “I’m so glad to finally meet you, Yuuri! You’re even better than I thought! The rest of them…” She pulled away and made a sweeping gesture to take in everyone else along with the onsen, “…can barely be called people, but you – no, _we_ know what living life is all about!”

“Where have you been all my life?” Yuuri asked, folding his arms over his chest and laughing.

“Didn’t your parents tell you? I was only released from prison yesterday.” She waved her arm at the motorcycle. “I didn’t think I’d be able to drive her after so long, but… well, what do you know?”

Then she turned around and gave Victor an up and down look. “And who the hell is this snowflake?”

Yuuri laughed. “You won’t believe this, granny, but that’s my husband you’re giving a dirty look.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow. “So you inherited my love for innocent boys too?”

“Let’s… let’s go inside,” Hiroko suggested, sounding really flustered. Toshiya echoed her words.

Victor looked ready to faint.

Yuuri hooked an arm around his. “Looks like it, granny, but believe me, he’s not as _innocent_ as he’d been when we first met.” And then, to reiterate this point, he turned, caught Victor’s face with his free hand and kissed him, forgetting his parents were right there and letting himself get carried away.

Victor kept up as best as he could.

It suddenly struck Yuuri that, in his own way, he was celebrating the fact that he’d found a relative who would understand him perfectly.

 

They spent the afternoon catching up on a lifetime of missed moments together, and then competing with each other to see who would be shocked the most (a competition that ended with a tie and Victor fainting, much to grandmother’s amusement).

His grandma kept trying to send Victor off to buy her a pack of cigarettes and laughed each time he acted shocked at the suggestion.

 

It was getting late when his grandma sent them off to bed with a little dismissive gesture. “You boys go have some fun. I can’t stand how sweet you two are to each other!”

Victor stood up, his face and ears all red.

“Just don’t make too much noise,” she warned and broke out laughing at Victor’s reaction. “And don’t faint, or there will be no fun at all,” she warned, shaking her finger at him.

“Well, grandma gave us her blessing, or something,” Yuuri said and held his elbow out to Victor, “shall we?” His parents had gone off to sleep two hours earlier, so it was just the three of them together in that moment.

Victor was too flustered to take Yuuri’s arm.

“Unless you’d rather not, of course,” Yuuri said. “You know I always do my best to satisfy you, but if you’re not in the mood…”

Victor grabbed Yuuri’s arm and buried his face in Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Have fun, boys!” his grandma exclaimed as they walked away.

It was only when they got to Yuuri’s room that Victor could string together a coherent sentence.

“Y-Yuuri, that was… That was your grandma!” she exclaimed.

“Looks like it. Unless someone is impersonating her.” He opened the door, pulled Victor in and closed it behind him, trapping Victor against it.

“She’s really cool,” Victor whispered.

Yuuri chuckled and leaned in to kiss the top of Victor’s neck as his fingers worked their way under the bottom of Victor’s shirt.

Victor gave a quiet gasp, feeling Yuuri’s fingers brush against his bare skin, and Yuuri pushed his whole body against him. “Let’s have some fun tonight,” he whispered.

“You don’t… you don’t want to talk about your… grandmother?”

“I’d much rather talk about my… something else,” Yuuri whispered back.

Victor gasped again. “Anything you want, Yuuri.”

Yuuri rubbed his nose against Victor’s neck. “Say that again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time I also threw in an earlier request, which was Yuuri’s parents finding out.  
> This chapter was inspired by this song about a [pirate grandma](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=doQ5D1-x4ac).


	13. Thoughts When I’m Half-Asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day 4 of Domestic Victuuri Week. The prompt was Coffee or Cuddles.

There were mornings when getting out of bed was the hardest thing of all. When even opening your eyes was ridiculously hard.

On second thought, maybe not _that_ hard.

What would he see if he did? At least one reminder of the night before, that’s what! Discarded leather gloves, or maybe a jacket, but that was nothing.

There was the six-time champion, true – under him or on top of him, depending on how the previous night had gone, hair spilled over the pillow, or…

Yuuri opened his eyes.

They’d curled up next to each other in the night, Yuuri’s back pressed against Victor’s stomach (or was it Victor’s stomach that was pressed against Yuuri’s back?), and those weren’t the only parts of them doing the pressing against. Victor’s arms were wrapped around him and his nose was buried in the back of Yuuri’s head.

He thought of the previous morning when he’d woken up because Victor was already up and about.

 

_“Good morning!” Victor exclaimed as Yuuri mentally described the morning as something other than good._

_He could barely open his eyes and there was Victor – cheery and oh-so-very awake. He tried to sit up and opted instead for just keeping his eyes open instead._

_Victor’s face swam into view. He was smiling._

_“Yuuri!” The grin was wider now. “You’re so cute when you have that sleepy look on your face!”_

_He wanted to argue with “cute”, but closed his eyes, muttering something that sounded like “mrmffmrm” instead._

_Victor sat down next to him, giggling, but Yuuri couldn’t be angry with him. He just couldn’t._

_Instead, he muttered, “Well, you’ve got me entirely at your mercy.”_

_Still giggling, Victor kissed different parts of his face, even pressing his lips against Yuuri’s closed eyes._

_Slowly Yuuri raised one arm and then the other and grabbed the living legend, pulling him down._

_It didn’t look like anything could make him stop giggling: he went on even when Yuuri turned them both over and wrapped the blanket around Victor. They were both kissing each other’s faces now and Yuuri couldn’t help chuckling himself._

_“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed as Yuuri’s hands slipped under his back. He tried to free his hands from under the blanket, but they got stuck._

_“I’ve got you now,” Yuuri whispered dangerously into Victor’s ear as his laughter faded away. “What will you do now, Snowflake?”_

_There was that look in Victor’s eyes that Yuuri had learned to recognize. It was some time before he’d come up with a good name for it, and even then it was a phrase he heard somewhere._

_Scared and horny._

_Yuuri sat up, giving Victor his most dangerous look. Only Victor’s heavy breathing broke the silence. Yuuri licked his index finger, his eyes fixed on Victor’s. Next was the middle finger. Victor’s eyes were open wide now. Yuuri went still. He could feel Victor shaking through the blankets._

_With a quiet chuckle Yuuri lay back down and wrapped his arms around Victor. “Should I tell you who looks cute?” he asked softly._

_“Who?” Victor’s voice was barely audible._

_Yuuri laughed. “You.”_

Victor mumbled something and gripped Yuuri tighter. Sometimes he would wrap all his limbs around Yuuri in his sleep and cling on as closely as possible. Yuuri had teased him about that once, but still Victor did it.

He rubbed his thumbs over Victor’s hands. It wasn’t comfortable. Technically. But only technically. Who needed to breathe when they could have their husband right there, clinging on as if his life depended on it?

There was something to be said about waking up first. When he got up second he often found Victor lying by his side, staring at him with a dreamy look on his face. The kind of look that says “I’m imaging us getting married, settled down in a house of our own, with a dog, or maybe a whole dozen of them” and Yuuri would have to resist the urge to point out that Victor didn’t need to imagine something that had actually happened.

On the rare days when Yuuri woke up early – like this day, for instance – he did… what? He had no great plan, no secret task to do when he was the first one up.

And, so, he lay there, waiting for Victor to wake up and do something.

It was glaringly obvious that he himself wasn’t going to fall back asleep in the near future.

When he was younger and had trouble sleeping he would go over the list of weapons he currently had in the room and think about where each of them was hidden. By the second or third item, he would usually fall asleep.

But what about now?

Now his thoughts just jumped from topic to topic.

Their six-month anniversary was coming up and he had a suspicion that Victor was planning something special to celebrate the occasion. Yuuri wondered what it was and if he would have to wear a suit for that too. He also wondered what he should get Victor.

And then he became aware of the fact that someone was walking around in their room and Victor was still clinging on with all his strength, keeping him from going anywhere.

Yuuri opened his eyes and saw Makkachin put his head on the bed. _Not this again! I thought I closed the door. Don’t tell me he learned how to open it!_

And then he realized that he couldn’t remember where Makkachin had been all evening.

_Oh great! We taught our dog how to sneak around and hide out while waiting for the target to present itself. What next? We teach him how to fire a gun?_

Victor’s hands slid over Yuuri’s chest and on to his stomach.

…And Makkachin was suddenly replaced by a teenager, asking Yuuri to teach him how to fire a gun or throw a knife. _No, not the kid! Why am I thinking of the kid now?_

His brain, sliding slowly into that state between sleeping and waking, was plucking odd memories out of his brain.

 

_“Yuuri,” Victor said between laughs, his eyes closed, “c-can you imagine if we could have a kid what they would look like?”_

_Really damn good._

Yuuri was suddenly very awake. _Where the hell did that come from?_

He needed to get up. He needed to mull this over without his husband clinging on like he was. No, he needed to _stop_ thinking about this and find something else to think about.

Victor chose that moment to wake up. “Yuuri,” he whispered, sliding his thighs against Yuuri’s.

It was hard to stop thinking about children when Victor was clinging to him like he was. It was a stupid thought, he told himself over and over again. He would make the worst parent in existence, he was sure of it.

He turned around and clung on, pressing his face against Victor’s neck.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed and Yuuri could _hear_ that he was blushing.

And so was he…


	14. An Ice Cream Café in the Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day 5 of Domestic Victuuri Week. The prompt was Rain, Snow, or Shine.

They opened a new dessert café somewhere in the heart of St. Petersburg and Victor was impatient to go check it out. So impatient, in fact that he would bring it up every day, and conclude with a little sigh, and act as if Yuuri was refusing to go.

Yuuri said nothing: he was waiting for Victor to actually ask to go instead of raving on about the place and then trailing off sadly.

Finally, after seven days of this Yuuri had enough.

It was another grey morning. They’d just had lunch and were now sitting in the kitchen, as if waiting for something. The air was still full of the rich smell of borsht.

“Did you hear about that ice cream place?” Victor asked, as if he’d never mentioned it before, as if Yuuri hadn’t already heard the question as well as everything that followed seven times. “I hear –”

Yuuri got up. “Hold that thought.”

He walked out of the room only to return with two helmets. He tossed one to Victor. “Let’s go see if it’s as good as you say it is.”

Victor rose to his feet, clutching the helmet to his chest. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet: wait till we get there.” Yuuri turned around to walk back out again and paused in the doorway. “You never know: it might turn out to be really awful.”

“It can’t be!” Victor protested. “It just can’t!”

“I trust your instinct, Snowflake,” Yuuri said with a chuckle as he headed for the door, swinging his keys on his finger.

He took them through the streets of St. Petersburg, breaking the law in as many ways as he could without even thinking about it.

When they finally arrived he pulled his helmet off and ran a hand over his hair to fix it.

It must’ve been an odd sight for any casual observer (and a terrifying one for the staff). A dessert place that looked as if it was made from icing and cotton candy. A biker with a “don’t mess with me” attitude walking straight into it, his hands in his pockets, the studs gleaming on his jacket, followed closely by the living legend, who looked like a personification of the café.

Yuuri let Victor live the dream. That is – walk to the front counter and order for the two of them.

The end result was one super elaborate ice cream with enough toppings on it to make it a work of art.

Yuuri dropped into a seat by the window and watched Victor carry it to their table, beaming like someone who’d won a big prize. “I always knew you had a sweet tooth, but…” Yuuri gave a little shake of his head.

“You don’t like it?” Victor asked.

“Oh no, I think it suits you quite well.” Yuuri leaned forward and whispered, “sweets for the sweet.”

Victor blushed.

“And you know I have a weakness for sweet things too,” he added with a glint in his eye.

Victor scooped up a spoonful to hide his embarrassment.

“No, no,” Yuuri said, reached out and took the spoon out of Victor’s mouth. “You have to let me do it, _Sugar Snowflake_.”

They amused themselves with feeding each other. Victor accidentally hit the side of Yuuri’s mouth with his spoon and Yuuri beckoned him closer. Victor leaned in to lick the ice cream off Yuuri’s face. The rest of the ice cream ended up all over their faces and then on their tongues.

Victor blushed and giggled, forgetting completely that they were in a public place.

Unfortunately it wasn’t long before the ice cream ended. Victor gave a big disappointed sigh.

“Do you want seconds, Snowflake?” Yuuri whispered into his ear.

Victor shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“Alright,” Yuuri said, getting up to his feet. “Let’s go somewhere else.” He watched Victor raise his eyes to look at him and held both hands out to pull him up.

As they walked back to the bike Yuuri debated between returning home and having fun, or finding another place to visit. He opened his mouth to ask Victor’s opinion on the subject.

And a drop hit his nose.

And several hit his face and head.

And then it really poured.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed.

It wasn’t a trickle, or even a shower, it was a stream of water as wide as the sky. They were soaked in a matter of seconds, but Yuuri unzipped his jacket, pulled it off and held it over their heads.

“I’m not driving in this,” he said into Victor’s ear trying not to shout over the clatter of water on his jacket. “Let’s go back to the café and wait it out.”

Victor nodded and they ran back. Yuuri held the jacket over them the whole way only lowering it once they were safely inside.

They took a spot by one of the windows to watch the rain’s progress, waiting for an opening that would let them go back.

Yuuri turned to look at Victor. He was all wet, as if someone had just pulled him out of the river. It had been an unusually warm day for January and so he had a light coat on, a coat that was now soaked all the way through. Victor stood there, shivering, as his hair clung to his cheeks.

Yuuri tossed his jacket over Victor’s shoulders. “You’ll catch a cold, if you’re not careful, Snowflake.”

“What about you?” Victor asked, pulling the jacket close around himself.

“I’ll be fine,” Yuuri told him.

They stood side by side in total silence for several minutes. Outside people ran for cover, jumping over puddles, splashing each other and themselves. A bus went by and sprayed someone with dirty puddle water from head to toe.

The thoughts from a few days ago kept going around in Yuuri’s mind, clamouring for attention, demanding to be spoken aloud and given life. And he knew that if he didn’t say anything he would go mad.

“How do you feel about kids?” he blurted out. _Damn! What sort of question is that? Whatever happened to working your way gradually to it?_ “I don’t mean in general, I mean: what do you think about having some of our own, adopting some, or whatever?”

Victor stared at him in silence.

Yuuri’s heart fell. _He must think I’ve gone mad. Who would let a killer raise little children anyway?_ “Yeah, I know it’s a stupid idea. Forget I said anything.” He tried to laugh it off and found that he couldn’t.

Victor snuggled close to Yuuri. “I was thinking about the same thing,” he admitted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will you believe me if I told you that I have the next 8 prompts planned out? I will probably not post every day when Domestic Victuuri Week ends, because I need to get back to my other wips.


	15. Two Gold Medals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day 6 of Domestic Victuuri Week. The prompt was Closeness or Comfort. (I think what I ended up with is "closeness to the point of discomfort" oops.)

_“And they are in first place! Incredible! But what else could we expect from the top two figure skaters in the world?”_

_“What do you think are your chances in the European Championships?”_

_“Do you expect to win gold in World’s?”_

_“Would you say that being married helped you skate better as a pair?”_

Yuuri closed the door of the hotel room.

The world of figure skating was out there, on the other side of it, full of stupid questions and all kinds of expectations. On this side there were only Mr. and Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov.

Victor walked up to Yuuri, a big grin on his face and pulled his medal off.

Yuuri let Victor put his medal around his, that is – Yuuri’s, neck and raised an eyebrow.

But, before Victor could say anything, he took his own medal off and put it over Victor’s head.

“Well that’s us re-medalled. Now what?”

Victor blushed. “Well… umm…we can um… we can see if there’s a good movie on…” he waved in the general location of the TV. “Or something…”

“I’d rather _or something_ ,” Yuuri countered.

Victor gave a little nod and threw off his jacket.

Yuuri leaned against the door, turning his head and giving Victor an inviting look.

Blushing furiously, which was just _asking_ for a comment, Victor pressed his lips against Yuuri’s. Yuuri gripped him by the shoulders and then his hands trailed down and caught the bottom of Victor’s shirt.

There was a tangled moment when the medal and Victor’s arms tried to get in the way of the shirt, but Yuuri managed to pull it off anyway.

The medal slipped through and stayed around Victor’s neck.

Yuuri chuckled at the sight of the medal against Victor’s bare chest.

Victor reached for it, but Yuuri caught his hands. “Keep it,” he whispered.

He crouched down and undressed Victor. His husband blushed down at him as he stood there wearing nothing but a gold medal.

“I should get you to wear all your medals,” Yuuri whispered, “and nothing else.” He slid his hands over Victor’s hips, watching Victor’s blush deepen. He reached up and paused several inches away from Victor. “What do you think?” he breathed out.

“I-if you want,” Victor stammered out. “But only if…” He trailed off and covered his face with his hands.

“Yes?”

“Only if you do the same thing,” Victor whispered just loud enough for Yuuri to hear.

Yuuri rose to his feet and undressed, keeping his eyes on Victor the whole time, which only made it harder to take his clothes off, but he’d done it several times before and was convinced that he was starting to get the hang of it.

Once he finished he reached out and slid a finger over the medal around Victor’s neck. Then he raised it to his lips, his eyes still fixed on Victor.

“Do you think you can remember the way to the bed?” he asked after his kiss.

Victor stammered out something incoherent and backed away towards the bed. Yuuri followed, the medal still in his hand. He let Victor drop down onto the bed and climbed over him with a smirk.

“Will my husband take care of me tonight?” he whispered into Victor’s ear, slipping his hand off the medal and onto Victor’s chest just under it.

Victor swallowed and nodded.

“Then we should switch positions, don’t you think?”

Victor tried to stammer out something like “we don’t need to”, but Yuuri turned them both over.

He lay under Victor now, both hands wrapped around him. “What does my ex-coach think of my skating today?” he asked.

“You were amazing, Yuuri,” Victor said and kissed Yuuri’s cheek. “I could barely keep up.”

Yuuri chuckled and let Victor trail kisses over him. It was so good to tremble under Victor’s touch and to gasp when he did something that was just right.

He let Victor turn him over gently, as if he was sitting him down for a talk or a rest after a long day (which was something he’d never done, but if he ever had – this is how he would’ve done it, Yuuri was certain of it). Victor trailed his fingers over his buttocks slowly, as if lost in thought.

“I didn’t think we’d do so well,” he suddenly admitted in a whisper.

And then, much to Yuuri’s surprise, he planted a brief kiss much as he did on the cheek on his face, except that this wasn’t on his face at all, even if it _was_ a cheek.

Victor shifted closer on the bed and slid his hands over Yuuri’s back lovingly.

Yuuri propped up his head with his hands and half turned to look at Victor. “Did you forget where you put the bottle?” he asked.

That had happened once and Yuuri hadn’t clued in for a good hour while Victor kissed and caressed his back and then his patience ran out and he asked Victor flat out if he’d changed his mind. He would always remember Victor’s embarrassment as he admitted that he couldn’t remember where he’d put the bottle after the previous night.

“Just leave it on the table next time. I bet the hotel staff is used to seeing all kinds of things in people’s rooms, anyway,” had been Yuuri’s suggestion.

But Victor had refused to do that.

“I love you, Yuuri,” Victor whispered. “I just… Sometimes I have days when I can’t believe that we’re really married, that we’re really competing together in pair skating. I guess I…” Yuuri watched a tear slide down his cheek. “I guess I didn’t expect all of my dreams to come true.”

Yuuri looked away.

“Sorry. Sorry I’m crying in bed like this,” Victor whispered.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Yuuri said.

“I’m so lucky,” Victor whispered, trailing his fingers over Yuuri’s hair.

Yuuri closed his eyes.

“I’m so lucky I have you.” He was caressing Yuuri’s back with both hands again. “Sorry for making you wait.”

“Take your time, Snowflake. For you, I have all night long.”

Victor leaned forward and Yuuri reached up almost at the same time.

And the medal around Victor’s neck swung out and hit Yuuri right in the face.

Yuuri swore and caught it with his hand before it could swing around again. “But, first, maybe you should take it off.

“Sorry,” Victor whispered. He put a hand over Yuuri’s. “Um… Can I… can I keep it? I promise I will hold on to it and make sure it doesn’t hit you again.”

Yuuri looked into Victor’s eyes and debated teasing him about it. “Fine.” He lay back down.

He didn’t regret it afterwards, not even when he felt the medal pressing into his back as Victor lay down on top of him.

Definitely not when he turned over and watched the living legend sit on top of him with the gold they’d won together hanging from his neck.

And he was willing to bet that the view was just as good when they switched positions.


	16. Why I Married You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Day 7 of Domestic Victuuri Week. This was a free day, so I went wild... or something...

Waking up was warm and really comfortable, so comfortable, in fact, that he became convinced that opening his eyes wasn’t worth the effort.

Yuuri shifted closer to Victor, his head sliding over the pillow. His hand was on his husband’s back and he slid his thumb down and smiled when Victor gave a soft moan.

He opened his eyes to enjoy the look on his husband’s face and leapt off the bed.

His own self was staring back at him. He jumped up in alarm, exclaiming, “Yuuri!”

He stared down at his hands and then felt his face while Yuuri was doing the same.

“Bathroom!” he exclaimed and they both rushed there to look at themselves.

The people who stared back were Yuuri and Victor, but…

“I’m you!” Victor exclaimed in that excited way of his that sounded odd in Yuuri’s voice.

“And I’m _you_!” Yuuri growled, which also sounded strange in Victor’s voice. “What the hell? Is this some kind of nightmare or shared delusion?”

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed. “How do get ourselves back?”

“Hell if I know! We can’t exactly go to a doctor and tell them about this!”

“Why not?” Victor asked.

“Think how it will sound. “I woke up in my husband’s body.” They’ll think we’ve gone crazy or that it’s some kind of prank!”

Victor sighed. “You’re right.” He was trembling.

 _He’s terrified and with good reason. What the hell do we do now?_ Yuuri reached out and put his arms around Victor.

Victor buried his face – or, to be more accurate: Yuuri’s face – in Yuuri’s – that is: Victor’s – chest.

“Listen,” Yuuri said after thinking about it for some time. “As far as I know we didn’t do anything yesterday that could’ve led to this, so maybe... Maybe it will wear off in a bit. Maybe tomorrow we’ll wake up and be ourselves again. We just have to get through this one day. No big deal, hmm?” _We damn well better be back in our usual bodies tomorrow, or, so help me, I will get my hands on whoever is responsible and then they’ll wish they’d never been born!_

“Yuuri?” Victor asked softly. “Can I kiss you?”

“What sort of a question is that?” Yuuri demanded.

“Well… won’t it be as if I’m kissing myself?”

Yuuri opened his mouth to say that, no, of course it wouldn’t and paused. Victor had, whether willingly or not, posed a very serious metaphysical question. But Yuuri wasn’t awake enough to deal with that yet. He embraced Victor tightly and reached down (which was odd on its own) for a kiss with the words, “Let’s find out.”

 It felt different. If before Yuuri waved kisses off with the phrase “it doesn’t matter who you kiss, it’s all the same” (or would’ve waved them off, if he’d ever been asked to comment on the subject, which he never was), now he could say with great certainty that _no_ , kisses definitely depended on the other person, but not because of how their lips moved, but rather because all of the senses joined in all at once and even the taste was different. Although, he was damned if he could figure out what the taste actually _was_.

He pulled away and raised an eyebrow. “Did that feel strange to you, Snowflake?”

Victor put his hands over his face. “It did,” he admitted. “But does that mean that my own husband won’t kiss me anymore?”

To the outside observer it looked as if the killer Yuuri Katsuki was standing naked in the bathroom and crying.

“You really _are_ a crybaby,” Yuuri said and swore. “This is all odd as hell!”

“I love you, Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed, raising his head and clutching his hands to his chest. “And I will love you no matter what body you’re in!”

Yuuri leaned in for a second kiss. This was going to take some getting used to, but – _ah, hell_ – he was willing to do it.

“You take a shower first,” he said after pulling away. “I need to think some more about this.”

But thinking some more got him nowhere.

And, so, when Victor – or, Yuuri? – came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and giving him a smile that was way too happy for that face, Yuuri was still exactly where he’d started.

“Just today,” he said, “and then we go see a doctor, or a psychiatrist, or whatever…”

“Yuuri,” Victor whispered, “but we’re supposed to visit Auntie today!”

Yuuri swore. He’d forgotten all about their invitation. Apparently that evening was a Russian holiday, which as far as he could tell, was called Old New Year’s. It made as much sense as the title and seemed to be just another excuse to eat and celebrate, so he hadn’t argued at the time.

But now…

Could they cancel?

No, probably not.

“Easy,” he said. “We act like each other. Surely we know each other well enough to be able to do that convincingly enough?”

Victor fidgeted. “I’m not sure…”

“No, _Yuuri_ , you _are_ sure. You are _d_ \- you’re definitely sure, alright?”

Victor nodded.

 _I have a very bad feeling about all of this._ “Okay, I’m going to shower and then we’ll deal with the rest,” he announced, made for the bathroom and fell over.

Victor caught him with a terrified look.

“What the hell? I got _here_ , didn’t I? Why can’t I walk like a normal person?”

It took some getting used to before he could make his way into the shower.

Suppressing the urge to grin, Yuuri did his best imitation of Victor’s tone and exclaimed, “Oh, Yuuri! Can you please hold me before I faint again?”

Victor frowned. “I don’t really talk like that!” he protested.

“You’re right, you don’t,” Yuuri conceded. “It’s usually more subtle.”

Victor sighed. “Is that really what you think of me?”

“I’m only teasing, Snowflake. You can trust me to be you,” he said. “I promise to take good care of your body.”

It was a horrible sentence, no matter how many times he turned it over in his mind afterwards, but the words had slipped out unbidden and he couldn’t take them back.

Victor turned bright red and looked ready to faint.

“And I expect you to do the same for me,” Yuuri finished.

He waited for Victor to leave and close the door before turning the water on. There were no words for just how odd this was. Later, when Victor blushed at memories of the whole switch, Yuuri reassured him, reminding Victor that he didn’t see anything he hadn’t seen before.

Maybe someone else, when put inside the body of the person they loved the most, would’ve gone wild and done something truly disgusting, but Yuuri spent the rest of the time trying to figure out how to not fall over in a body that was several centimeters taller than his own. It should’ve been easy. Victor was just fine in a shorter body, so why was he having so much trouble?

He did his best to forget he was Victor. It was less weird that way.

And, so, when he came out of the bathroom he managed to stay upright and not fall over.

He got his clothes without thinking and only when he realized that what he was trying to put on was too short did he stop and pull it off.

“Here,” he said, handing his clothes to Victor. “You wear this. I’m going to settle for something that suggests that I’m completely harmless.”

So far so good.

One disorienting breakfast later, they practiced being each other.

Victor got up and leaned against the counter, arms folded over his chest and, still blushing a little said, “Really, Snowflake, I think I can do whatever the h- hell I want.”

Yuuri sat, his head propped up by his arms and gave Victor the sappiest smile he could. “Will you take me for a ride, Yuuri?”

They stared at each other in silence for several minutes and then Yuuri said, “I’ll have to drive us. You may have my body, but it doesn’t mean you can drive.” He swore. “But the license is under my name, damn it!”

“Can you drive us?” Victor asked, sitting down across from Yuuri. “You can barely walk. Oh!” he exclaimed and gave Yuuri a worried look. “This better be over soon: what will people think when they see that neither of us can skate anymore?”

Yuuri’s blood ran cold. He hadn’t thought of that.

He jumped up to his feet. “I can walk!” he insisted and made a total fool of himself by tripping over his own chair.

Victor caught him.

“Sorry, Snowflake –”

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Victor insisted. “You have to call me Yuuri.”

“Damn!” Yuuri swore. “This is starting to really mess with my brain!”

“And you can’t swear,” Victor reminded him. “Um… I suppose that I should, but… will it be alright, if I don’t?”

“H- I don’t know. Probably.”

Victor leaned close, dropping his voice to a whisper, “Do you think you can walk for me, Snowflake?”

Damn! It was no wonder Victor was so mad about him: that tone of voice was enough to make Yuuri blush. He raised a hand to his cheek and gave Victor a puzzled look.

Victor smiled, no he _smirked_.

Yuuri merely stared. His jaw didn’t drop, it _didn’t_.

And then Victor did a really odd thing: he stepped away from Yuuri. “I can teach you how to walk, _Snowflake_ , if you can’t remember how to do it.”

And he walked.

It was Victor’s body reacting, Yuuri told himself. It was Victor’s body and _not_ him that was feeling ready to faint.

What the hell was going on?

Victor, pressed his hands to his face and nearly fell over from joy. “ _Oh my God_!” he exclaimed as if he’d just won a big prize. “I can do The Walk!” Were those capital letters? Really?

“ _The walk_?” he repeated in disbelief.

“The one you do that always makes my knees weak!” Victor exclaimed and then blushed.

“Well, well. Anything else I do that turns you on?” he asked. He’d intended to walk dangerously towards Victor, but he lost his balance and nearly fell over instead.

Victor caught him again. “I guess it’s my turn to make you faint, Yuuri!”

He burst out laughing, almost falling over a second time. “It is!” he said.

It was stupid: the whole situation was utterly ridiculous, and yet… And yet it was fun.

Yuuri took a metaphorical step back and let Victor lead. Did he keep falling over? Yes. But was all of it because he couldn’t get the hang of how to walk in Victor’s body? Hell no.

 They practiced all day long and then Yuuri had to make sure he could still drive the bike.

 

Victor Nikiforov drove a motorcycle as Yuuri Katsuki clung on, a big happy smile on his face. They drove into their usual place and parked the bike, getting off together.

Yuuri walked to the building, his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face. Victor followed soon after, swinging his arms as nonchalantly as possible.

They went up several flights before stopping in front of one of the doors.

Yuuri rang the doorbell and leaned against the wall. Despite all of the available wall for him to lean against, he came dangerously close to missing it and falling over, much to Victor’s amusement.

The door opened and Auntie flew out, catching Victor as she exclaimed his name and kissing him aggressively on each cheek, going back and forth several times. Victor stood absolutely still, waiting for the torture to end.

The aunt stepped back and narrowed her eyes. “Aren’t you going to kiss your aunt back?”

“Y-yes, of course!” Victor stammered out, leaned forward and kissed her on each cheek.

“Fine.” She gave Yuuri a suspicious look. “What did you do this time? Are you teaching my nephew bad habits?”

“A –” Yuuri coughed. “I always teach Victor bad habits!”

“And proud of it too!” She elbowed him right in the stomach.

Yuuri’s eyes widened in surprise and shock as he backed away and clutched his stomach.

Victor stepped in between them. “Auntie, please! Don’t hurt him!”

She sniffed indignantly. “I told you this marriage was a bad idea!” she said, turned away and marched into the apartment.

The men followed, exchanging a look.

“We brought you some food, Auntie!” Victor said, carrying the food into the kitchen and laying it out on the table there.

He ran around, helping her with the food while Yuuri watched them dumbly.

“Can I help?” he asked after a while.

“Make yourself useful,” the aunt told him and put a dish into his hands. “Take this to the table.”

Together they set the table, barely exchanging more than a few words. Even the meal passed in relative silence.

The aunt watched both of them like a hawk. Finally, having enough of this, she pushed the plate away from herself. “Alright. What’s going on?”

“What?” they both exclaimed, as if they’d been caught out in a crime.

“What are you two up to?”

“Nothing!” they said as one.

Her gaze went from Yuuri to Victor and then back to Yuuri. “What trouble are you getting my nephew into this time?”

“Nothing, Auntie,” Yuuri said.

Did his voice tremble or was it the old woman’s imagination?

She hmphed and watched them both carefully for the rest of the evening.

Victor got up to get them tea while Yuuri and Auntie remained at the table.

“Alright, now that my nephew is out of earshot,” she whispered, leaning forward, “tell me what it is. You know you can’t hide anything from me.”

“It’s nothing. Honestly,” Yuuri said in a sincere tone of voice that was so unlike his usual tone.

“Hmm…”

Victor returned from the kitchen and poured them tea. “Sugar… Do you want some sugar?” he looked at Yuuri and then at the aunt.

“Yes, please,” Yuuri said, pushing his cup forward.

The aunt gave him a sharp look.

Yuuri’s face turned red but he looked up at Victor, as if nothing had happened.

Victor nodded and added two tea spoons of sugar into his cup.

“You never take sugar in your tea,” Auntie said and both men froze. “And Victor takes two spoons every time.”

“You caught us, Auntie,” Victor said. “I’m sorry, Yuuri, the game is up.”

The aunt leaned back in her chair with a triumphant “Ha!” and waited for the explanation.

“Yuuri and I are…” Victor fiddled with a spoon, “were pretending to be each other for a day. I read online that it was something that couples did sometimes to… to strengthen their marriage.” He beamed.

The aunt sighed and shook her head. “I always knew you had some mad ideas, Vitya,” she nodded at Yuuri, “but this is something else entirely.”

Victor sat down and took the tea with the sugar, handing Yuuri a tea cup with plain tea. “Sorry, Auntie. We didn’t mean it to offend you. It was just… um… something we did for fun.”

“Teach you not to try to trick me next time, I hope,” she said and drank her tea.

Yuuri watched Victor drink his tea with a slight shudder and put his hands on Victor’s shoulders, startling him and making him choke on his drink. He murmured an apology, leaning forward to give him a kiss on the cheek.

 

Auntie insisted that they stay overnight and refused to hear any words on the subject. As always, she retired to her room, giving them both a stern look and leaving them alone.

Yuuri let out a sigh of relief. “Do you think she believed that?” he whispered.

“Mostly.” Victor pulled his hand through his hair, stopping halfway through and taking his hand away from his head. “Listen, we’ve had a weird day. Let’s just go sleep, alright?”

Yuuri leaned towards him. “And where is my promised ride… _Snowflake_?”

Victor opened his mouth to say something like “I’m really not in the mood right now” and chuckled instead. “Well we already tried kissing, I guess we might as well try this out too.” He rose to his feet and made for the bedroom, his hands in his pockets.

Yuuri followed him into the room, making sure to close the door behind them.

 

Yuuri wasn’t ready for anything that happened after he dropped onto the bed and Victor climbed on top of him. They’d gotten carried away in playing their roles and he laughed as Victor sat down on top of him and promised him the ride of his life in his own voice.

And then Victor raised his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers, doing the very thing Yuuri had done on more than one occasion.

_Damn! I can’t tell if I’m being turned on by myself right now or not and that’s really terrifying!_

Victor pulled his shirt off – was it his, Yuuri’s, or his, Victor’s? Did it really matter at this point? – and ran his hands over Yuuri’s bare chest.

There was a smirk on his lips.

Yuuri gasped. “S- ” What could he call him now? Snowflake was the wrong nickname entirely! “Can you turn the lights off?” he whispered hoarsely.

“Are you frightened?”

There was a short pause as Yuuri considered this. “Yes!” he exclaimed.

Victor turned the lights off and leaned over Yuuri’s ear. “I will look after you, I promise.”

Yuuri let out a gasp, feeling Victor’s hands on him. “Don’t… Don’t tease me…” He kept biting back Victor’s name. But he couldn’t scream his own, surely!

Victor turned him over and Yuuri knew exactly what to say. “Take me, _Sugar_.”

He felt a kiss on his back and knew that the nickname had met with Victor’s approval.

 

It was morning. Victor’s arms were wrapped tightly around him, his own face was buried in Victor’s chest.

Yuuri rubbed his nose against Victor’s skin absent-mindedly and heard Victor sigh and whisper his name. He pulled away and opened his eyes.

Victor’s face smiled at him.

And then he felt Victor pull him close. “I’m me again! And you’re you!” Victor exclaimed.

Yuuri burst out laughing.

Victor sighed in relief. “Oh, Yuuri! I’m so _happy_!”

Instead of an answer Yuuri turned them over so that he was on top and he trailed kisses from Victor’s neck downwards. He stopped when he got to Victor’s stomach and sat up. “Well, _Snowflake_ , I think I know what makes you so wild about me.”

Victor blushed and put his hands over his face. “But I never felt the same way!”

Yuuri pulled Victor’s hands away and looked into his face. “What? Really?”

“No.” He trembled. “I kept looking at myself and wondering how did you ever fall in love with me. I don’t deserve you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri leaned in and kissed Victor, taking his time and pouring all of himself into the kiss. “We have very different tastes,” he whispered, pulling away. “And, besides, when I look at you I get completely different feelings than what I got when I looked at myself.”

“R-really? Like what?”

Yuuri took Victor’s right hand in both of his own. “Security,” he admitted and kissed Victor’s ring. “The person I saw yesterday wasn’t the sort of person I would ever marry.”

“But…” Victor protested. “But _I_ married you!”

“Yes, you did. And I have no idea why.” Yuuri leaned forward and traced a finger over Victor’s chest. “Even your aunt thinks it’s a bad idea.”

Victor was silent for a while and then he said, “But I married you for the same reason you married me. With you I feel safe.”

 

Auntie walked into the kitchen and found her nephew and his husband laughing as they cooked breakfast together. Victor rested his head against Yuuri’s shoulder and Yuuri had an arm around him.

Yuuri buttered a piece of toast and fed it to Victor.

“I love you!” Victor exclaimed once he finished with the toast.

Auntie folded her arms over her chest.

Yuuri’s hand trailed over Victor’s back. He leaned in and exclaimed, “I love you, too, _Sugar_.”

They kissed, not realizing that the aunt was watching them.

She debated breaking them up and changed her mind, deciding to wait instead until they noticed her. At least fifteen minutes went by before they did.


	17. All that Blood Looks Good on You

The most dangerous man in Japan swung around and fired both pistols in his hands at once. Three men fell down. One of the two who had been shot knocked another one over like a domino and took him down with him.

Victor was in the back seat of a car that had stopped in the middle of the kind of alley that most people avoided. He peered out through the back window, waiting to see what would happen next.

The most dangerous man swept through the alley, firing as he went, taking out as many men as he could. True, in Japan, he had no competition, but this was America and there were several people in this country who could give him a really hard time.

Luckily for him, none of them were currently in the same city as he was.

One of the men he was fighting, screamed in desperation and ran straight for him, swinging out his gun.

The lone fighter laughed and shot his attacker right in the face.

Normally the laws of physics would make the man drop to the ground and die, but it was a very odd night. The full moon shone in the sky, illuminating that narrow and dirty alleyway. There was one long cloud in the sky that looked like someone had attempted to cover some of the stars with a dirty rag. Smoke rose from chimneys in the distance.

Blood spurted from the man, covering the lone fighter from head to toe and making him swear loudly and with feeling. The dead man dropped to the ground and earned an angry kick for his efforts.

There was only one man left after that. He tried to run for safety, but a bullet reached him just as he got to the end of the alley.

The man dropped with a scream and everything went quiet.

Victor continued to stare out the window.

The lone fighter walked to the car. He opened the back door and grinned down at Victor. “There you are!”

Victor’s chest tightened. Yuuri was all covered in blood. There was even some sliding down his face. It was terrifying.

Yuuri laughed and put his guns away. “Well? Won’t you say anything?”

“A-are you alright?”

“Yeah. Not even a scratch.”

Victor lowered his eyes. “Thank goodness!”

“No, no. You’re supposed to tell me that all this blood looks good on me.” Victor raised his head and his mouth dropped open. “Well, doesn’t it bring out my eyes, at least?” Yuuri asked with a chuckle.

Victor swallowed. “Yes.”

The car was full of dark shadows and that was probably why Yuuri didn’t clue in right away. “They’ve tied you up, haven’t they? Damn it!” He exclaimed and pulled his knife out of his inside pocket, not bothering to wait for Victor’s small nod. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Victor stared down at Yuuri’s feet. “The blood really does look good on you,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently dug up two more prompts that I had saved on my computer and completely forgot to post here. Oops.
> 
> This one is from Tumblr. The prompt was “All that blood looks good on you. It brings out your eyes.”


	18. Are You Wearing my Underwear Too?

The morning of the short program Yuuri woke up first. He sat up and watched Victor sleep, rolled up on one side. Usually he clung on to Yuuri in his sleep, but for some reason this time he wasn’t doing that.

Yuuri thought of the night before, how upset Victor had been the moment one of the reporters dropped the very question they’d all been waiting for.

 

_“Tell us, Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, why did you decide to represent Russia and not Japan now that you and your husband are skating as a pair?”_

_It was a stupid question and he told them as much. What_ other _country could he pick?_

_“Well, initially I was considering representing Antarctica, but Victor was against it.”_

_They kept asking him all the questions too, which was so infuriating. For some reason, they took one look at him and Victor and all came to the conclusion that Yuuri was the one who made all the decisions._

Victor was the one who hauled his ass all the way to Japan to win me over, or did you already forget all of that?

_He didn’t bother wasting his time correcting them. He’d tried that before and with absolutely no luck._

_No, he had more important things to worry about: he’d seen the way Victor reacted to their question._

Victor slept on, his face taking on that expression he got right before he started weeping.

Yuuri bent over him. _Is he having another nightmare? Should I wake him up?_

He pressed his lips as gently as he could against Victor’s forehead.

Victor slept on, but now his face relaxed into a smile.

 

_Victor returned to their hotel room, apologizing the whole way. He was sorry the reporters wouldn’t stop bothering Yuuri with questions. He was sorry he didn’t answer any of them himself. He was sorry the Moon wasn’t made of cheese. He was sorry… What was the last one?_

_Oh yes._

_He was sorry they weren’t representing Japan in their first ever competitive pair skate in the Grand Prix._

_Yuuri pulled him close, arms wrapped tightly around Victor’s waist and his nose pressed against Victor’s. “You don’t need to apologize,” he said in a voice that was somewhere between a whisper and his regular tone. “I already told you: I don’t care. It really doesn’t matter to me.”_

_But Victor wasn’t convinced. “You should care! We’re supposed to represent a country! It’s a very important role!”_

_“Hold up the honour and all that crap? Japan’s got other skaters besides me. They’ll sort it out. Hell, we’re competing against them tomorrow.” He leaned in for a kiss._

_Victor put a hand on his mouth. “You’re okay with this?”_

_“Yes! Didn’t I already say as much?” he exclaimed impatiently._

_But Victor went on, determined to ask every possible question about their situation. “And you promise that next year we’ll represent Japan?”_

_“Yes! I already said we would!”_

_Victor sighed. “We should’ve done it this year: the Grand Prix Final is in Japan, after all.”_

_It was really upsetting him and there just didn’t seem to be a way to reassure him._

_Yuuri could feel it as they lay down to sleep and Victor curled up beside him. Yuuri turned, put an arm around Victor and felt him tremble._

Still Victor slept on.

Yuuri turned away. He needed to do something to take his mind off the whole thing. At this point it was too late to change which country they were representing anyway.

He smiled as an idea occurred to him.

 

Victor woke up, but his eyes remained closed. One of his hands slid over the pillow and onto the bedsheet. The other hand joined it in the hunt for something he’d expected to find, but…

The bed beside him was empty.

Victor’s eyes snapped open and confirmed what his hands had told him.

The bed beside him really was empty.

He sat up sharply and looked around the room.

“Looking for me?”

Yuuri sat in the only chair in the hotel room, a smirk on his face and Victor’s coat thrown over his shoulders. Victor’s eyes took in his husband’s figure head to toe. He was wearing all of Victor’s clothes.

“Y-Yuuri!”

“And a g-good morning to you too,” Yuuri said. He got up and crossed the room to sit down on the bed next to Victor.

Victor’s mouth opened and closed before he could make a single sound.

Yuuri put his hand over his heart. “Goodness, Yuuri! W-what are you doing in my clothes? A-are you wearing my underwear too?” he went on, imitating Victor’s voice and embarrassed stutter. “They really suit you! Can you stand up, turn around and show off your lovely a- backside?”

Victor blushed deeper and, realizing that Yuuri was waiting for some sort of response, nodded. He pulled his blanket up to his chin.

He watched Yuuri get up, drop the jacket onto the bed and make a slow turn to show off his backside, as promised.

Victor pulled the blanket up to his nose. His heart hammered like mad in his chest. Was this hot man really his husband?

Yuuri put one hand on his hip and struck a pose.

Victor was probably nosebleeding now, but he was too distracted to check.

“Yuuri!” Yuuri went on relentlessly, still imitating Victor as he spoke. “My clothes suit you so well, but not half as well as when you’re not wearing anything!”

Victor’s heart stopped.

His shirt came off Yuuri’s beautiful torso and tumbled onto the floor. His zipper came undone and the pants dropped to show that Yuuri hadn’t bothered with Victor’s underwear. Or any underwear at that.

Yuuri sat down beside him. “Oh, Yuuri!” he whispered in Victor’s frightened tone. “Kiss me, please!”

Victor’s hands were clinging to the blanket to so tightly it was starting to hurt. He closed his eyes and leaned in for a kiss. Yuuri caught him halfway and pulled both hands through Victor’s hair. They both tumbled back onto the bed and Victor felt Yuuri climbing over him through the blanket between them. His hands were still gripping it, unable to let go.

It was impossible to let each other go and Victor wished he could get rid of the stupid blanket between them. He wanted more, but Yuuri was sticking only to kissing for some reason.

Victor pulled himself free at last and whispered, “Take me.”

“And here I thought you were never going to ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is from another Tumblr prompt. As I remember it was something like "Fluff: wearing their clothes"
> 
> It's a sort of continuation from the time when they go to Japan for the Grand Prix Final to compete as a pair.
> 
> I still have 3 or 4 prompts that people sent me that I never filled. Ooops... But at the same time I feel like it's been so long that no one really remembers or cares anymore. My bad!


	19. Just the Laundry

Sunday was always laundry day in the Katsuki-Nikiforov household. This meant that Victor would spend most of the day babysitting the laundry machine and then the drier, wasting time away when he could be giving all that attention to Yuuri.

Usually he let Victor take care of it and went out for a ride. When he was in a good mood he returned with groceries strapped down to the back of his bike. On bad days he took the trash out (metaphorically).

This time it was one of those hot days when it was hard to find the energy to do anything. Yuuri lay on the couch, between sleeping and waking, while Victor went through what Yuuri called the cleaning ritual. He’d gotten a hold of all of Yuuri’s clothes this time and tossed them all in the wash, telling Yuuri that he could wear the bathrobe while he waited.

Victor returned to the living room. He must’ve assumed that Yuuri was asleep, because he crept up to him as soundlessly as he could and brushed his hand through Yuuri’s hair.

Yuuri, who was awake and as alert as always, was curious to see what Victor would do next. He shifted a little, pretending he was still asleep, and the bathrobe opened up to reveal his bare chest.

But Victor missed the hint entirely and went on playing with Yuuri’s hair.

After what felt like forever, his fingers slid down over Yuuri’s cheeks as he sat down on the edge of the couch.

For some reason Yuuri was ready for the soft singing when it came. It was a love song sweet enough to give him cavities, but still he went on pretending he was asleep.

Victor’s lips felt gentle against Yuuri’s cheek. Yuuri snatched at them, tired of his pretence. He pulled Victor down.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed, pulled away and then reached down for another kiss.

He chuckled between kisses. _Can’t get enough of me, can you, Snowflake?_

Victor tried to move away again, but Yuuri held on tight. His hands settled in the middle of Victor’s back and he curved one leg around Victor.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed again, breaking yet another kiss.

“Hmmm… What’s wrong, Snowflake?”

Victor stared into Yuuri’s face. His eyes were half-closed and he had what Yuuri called “the kiss me now” face.

Yuuri slid his finger down Victor’s nose. “You’re not about to run away from me, are you, Snowflake?”

This flustered Victor even more. “R-run away? No, no! I’m not… I’m not running anywhere!” he protested.

Yuuri chuckled. His hands reached the small of Victor’s back and slid further down to pull Victor even closer.

“Whose clever idea was it for you to only wear underwear today?” he asked softly. There was just a hint in his tone of what was in store for Victor in the near future.

“Yuuri!” Victor gasped.

Yuuri’s hands moved around, as if he was very interested in the cut of Victor’s underwear, especially from the inside.

The expression on Victor’s face melted from “kiss me” into “ride me”. This made the smirk on Yuuri’s mouth widen.

He used one hand to untie his bathrobe and toss it aside.

Judging by Victor’s face he could feel that Yuuri hadn’t bothered with any underwear. Now if only he could figure out how to pull Victor’s off without separating from him.

Victor freed himself and sat up. His face was all red.

“Well, you have me entirely at your mercy. What will you do next?” Yuuri asked and watched the expression on Victor’s face change.

“I’m not… I’m… um…”

Yuuri chuckled, really enjoying himself.

“We don’t… uh…” Victor stammered out.

“Ah, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov prefers to get his pleasures in comfort and needs pillows and a bed to –”

“I need to finish the laundry!” Victor insisted and leapt off to dash back into the laundry room.

Yuuri breathed out slowly. He rose to his feet and followed Victor, feeling as if he was drunk. He paused in the doorway and watched Victor busy himself with the laundry.

Despite all the excitement, Yuuri had to admit that there was something calming about the sight of the living legend, dressed only in a pair of underwear, emptying out the laundry machine to load the dryer.

Yuuri resisted the urge to approach Victor.

The living legend closed the dryer, pushed a button and turned with a smile. “I knew you followed me in here,” he said.

It was odd, Yuuri thought, that even though they were married, he still had to seduce Victor into having sex with him.

He leaned against the doorway and smirked as if he was in his usual leather jacket and pants, standing against his motorbike and not naked in the laundry room of their apartment.

Victor blushed. “Aren’t you cold, Yuuri?”

“I always thought I was hot.” He raised one eyebrow just enough to make more blood rush to Victor’s face. “Guess I was wrong.”

Victor swallowed and stepped up to Yuuri.

For some reason Yuuri’s brain picked that moment to notice the fuzzy pink slippers on Victor’s feet and focus on that detail.

“I-if you’re cold,” Victor began and Yuuri forgot about the slippers. “I can um… warm you up.”

Yuuri tried to recline even further and nearly fell over. “You don’t need to run and fetch clothes and blankets, Snowflake. Just looking at you warms me up nicely.”

“I wasn’t talking about clothes or blankets,” Victor admitted.

“Oh? Will you turn the heating on, then?” This conversation was taking a surprisingly satisfying turn.

Victor stepped closer. “It’s very warm in the dryer,” he said and burst out laughing.

“Good idea,” Yuuri said. “I’m all wet, anyway.”

He let Victor catch him in a kiss against the wall.

“Bedroom…” he moaned between kisses.

But Victor wasn’t planning on letting them go anywhere. With a delighted giggle he kissed Yuuri’s face and then his neck.

Yuuri felt Victor up in response.

How long was Victor going to keep this up for?

Only when Victor moved on from Yuuri’s chest to his stomach did Yuuri begin to suspect that this wasn’t going to end how he’d expected it to.

 _Kisses. It’s just going to be kisses,_ Yuuri told himself as he gasped for air and excitement coursed through his veins.

Victor was on his knees now.

“Well, it seems you have me where you want me,” Yuuri said in what he hoped was his usual tone of voice.

He wasn’t holding on to the wall. He was just supporting it so it didn’t fall over. Yes, that was it. Obviously. He swallowed and waited for Victor to get going already.

Yuuri braced himself for the touch of Victor’s lips and, so, he’d been caught completely unawares by what Victor did next.

 

Victor was letting himself getting carried away. _My Yuuri,_ he thought, _my husband, my love, my…_

He pressed another kiss against Yuuri’s stomach, except that instead of his lips, his teeth connected with bare skin.

Yuuri made a noise that couldn’t have been human.

Victor released Yuuri, jumped to his feet and stammered out something incoherent.

There was a terrifying glint in Yuuri’s eye when he looked up into Victor’s face and exclaimed, “Don’t you _dare_ apologize! Don’t you _dare_!”

Victor took Yuuri’s face in both hands and gave him a gentle kiss. Yuuri accepted hungrily, falling back against the wall behind him.

He let Yuuri wrap his arms around his neck and pull him back to the couch. “I don’t think I can wait until the bedroom,” Yuuri admitted in a voice that made Victor’s head spin.

He followed Yuuri to the couch, where he released him and watched his husband drop onto his back.

Yuuri’s bathrobe was still hanging from his shoulders and he lay down over it as if it was a blanket. He frowned and slipped one hand under the cushion to pull something out. He turned it over in his hand with a soft chuckle.

“Snowflake, do you think you could do that again?” he asked, spreading his legs apart and raising the little item to his face. “Living legend, do you think you could satisfy Japan’s ace?”

Victor stared at the card in Yuuri’s hand. It was the ace of hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet was inspired by this [really beautiful art](http://izzyisozaki.tumblr.com/post/173255895286/japans-ace-of-hearts-late-birthday-present) that I got as a birthday present from izzyisozaki!!


	20. A Lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to all my WIPs. I’m a lost cause.
> 
> This ficlet was inspired by [this art](http://roses-and-phantoms.tumblr.com/post/174258256876/i-saw-the-most-victor-motorcycle-on-here-and-by) and photos of [this motorcycle](http://witharthurkirkland.tumblr.com/post/174262223913/shemakesmeforget-paxohana-itsreservedjesse).

“What is _that_?” Yuuri asked.

Victor, who had been standing by a wall with a strange _thing_ next to him, looking as if he was posing for a fashion magazine (or quite possibly for a motorcycle ad), stepped up to Yuuri. He had a faintly embarrassed air and – here was a new one – a little defiant.

“It’s a motorcycle,” he answered simply.

“I can see _that_.” Yuuri eyed it in amazement. It was a dusty pink (who the _hell_ had committed _that_ crime?), but worse still was the pipe on its side bent in the shape of a heart.

“It… well, it definitely suits you,” Yuuri said, biting back all the other comments that came to mind. He raised his eyes to look at Victor again who just happened to be in his leather jacket of the same colour.

“You have to teach me how to drive now,” Victor said defiantly.

“Drive this thing? You mean it’s not just for decoration?”

Victor protested at this, making Yuuri laugh and shake his head. “Back in Detroit people would use this sort of thing for target practice.”

“Target practice?” Victor repeated in disbelief, but when Yuuri just gave a calm nod he returned to his earlier request. “Will you teach me how to drive it?”

“And what will I get for it?” Yuuri teased. He had secretly decided for himself that he would, but he also wanted to hear Victor’s answer to this question.

Victor stepped forward, hesitated and leaned closer to drop a kiss on Yuuri’s cheek. As if they were a group of school children with a crush on each other.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow as Victor stepped back. “You want to try that again?” he whispered and waited for Victor to give him a proper kiss.

But Victor fidgeted, stared at his feet and stammered out something incoherent. “I… found it,” he finally managed to say.

“Found it?” Yuuri repeated

Victor nodded. “A place that… that could give you what you want.”

Yuuri leaned against the wall, folded his arms over his chest and watched Victor curiously. “A place?” What the hell was he talking about? Had someone told Victor about love hotels? Was that it? His brain tried to think of something else, but ran out of ideas really fast.

“A place that could…” Victor’s lips formed the next words, but for some reason he couldn’t say them.

Yuuri waited. Then it dawned on him that Victor had tears in his eyes and they were the reason he couldn’t speak a clear sentence. Yuuri took Victor by the hand, pulled him close and put an arm around him.

“What’s this all about?” he said as softly as he could.

“I found a place that will give us a child,” Victor whispered.

He held his breath.

They were tears of _joy_ in Victor’s eyes.

Yuuri rubbed Victor’s back. “Did you now?” he whispered back, unable to think of anything else to say.

For a while neither of them said anything.

“So I suppose you’ll want to know how to drive this ridiculous thing?” Yuuri said as if children hadn’t been mentioned at all. This needed some careful thinking. He wasn’t ready for this talk just yet.

 

An hour later, Victor sat on the bike with Yuuri on the seat behind him, four hands gripping the handles tightly.

“You don’t let go no matter what, got that?” Yuuri growled. “I’ve seen the music videos you’re always watching. Don’t get any bright ideas.”

Victor nodded.

Yuuri explained how to stop and go as Victor nodded along, but Yuuri had a sneaking suspicion that none of his words had made it through.

 _It’s because I’m sitting too close to you, isn’t it, Snowflake? Oh well._ “Let’s give it a shot,” he said. _If it comes to it, I should be able to take control. And if not – that’s one hell of a way to go._

Victor nodded again, released the clutch and applied the throttle. The bike accelerated as if they were in race.

“Slow down!” Yuuri shouted. “I told you not to apply the throttle!”

They were practicing on a long stretch of a straight road that Yuuri found for them. Yes, that did mean that he had to drive both of them there on the ridiculous thing he normally wouldn’t be seen dead on, but at least that meant that Victor had somewhere to practice.

“Slow down?” Victor asked and burst out laughing. “I thought you liked going fast, Yuuri?”

Yuuri pushed Victor’s hands and feet out of the way and tried to take control.

He slowed the bike down and came to a stop. Victor was still laughing.

“That was fun! Let’s go again!”

 

They returned home late, laughing and flirting with each other. Outside the sky was dark, the moon and stars shining down on the city below.

“What do you say about that last ride?” Victor asked, falling against the door to their apartment, his words mostly lost in between giggles.

“Was that really the last one?” Yuuri whispered, putting his arms on the door, on either side of Victor. “I thought we had one more left for the night.” He swung his hips sideways, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Victor stopped giggling.

Yuuri leaned in close enough for Victor to feel his breath on his neck. “What do you say to one more, Snowflake?”

“Who will we ask for, Yuuri?” Victor asked and Yuuri stepped back with a confused look on his face. “A boy or a girl?”

“You mean we have a choice?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (In a way, Yuuri, you don't...)


End file.
